


Who You Gonna Call?

by Genesister (papirini)



Series: Bangs and Thangs [5]
Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Apocalypse, Background Keith/Shiro (Voltron) - Freeform, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demonic Possession, Gen, Halloween, Haunting, New York City, Paranormal Investigators, To Tag More Would Be To Spoil The Story :), Voltron Halloween Big Bang 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papirini/pseuds/Genesister
Summary: Summary: Takashi "Shiro" Shirogane has a normal life - well, as normal as someone who went to Kerberos and came back could have. He retired and became a writer, and had been living at the apartment building at 550 Central Park West for the past two years. However, a group of 'paranormal detectives' unexpectedly crash his apartment, and Shiro finds his quiet life upended by the threat of a catastrophe that could destroy the world. Helping, however, will make him question everything about himself - perhaps even at the cost of his soul.A Ghostbusters/Voltron fusion crossover.





	1. Something weird and it don't look good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Voltron Halloween Big Bang 2018. It was cancelled, but many of the authors and artists have opted to continue their works for the season of all things spooky, I among them. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I will be going on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation for the next two weeks starting tomorrow, so my own options were to either post now, and be reasonably within Halloween's date, but not have my artist's work ready by then, or post when I get back, and have my artist ready, but have it be after Election Day. I've opted for the former, and so my artist's lovely work will be added to this in a second update when I return.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy, and of course, Please Don't Spoil The Shocking Ending Of This Fanfic. Well - maybe not shocking. Still surprising, perhaps? More like I may have fused this with another ghost-related fandom as well. It's certainly not one I saw coming myself.
> 
> But, we'll see. In the meantime, enjoy.

 

 

 

Shiro had just gotten home from the grocery store when he’d finally started noticing something was off about his apartment that cold October night. Oh, but that time, it wasn’t the strange noises that were echoing through his room. Those noises, he decided long ago, were normal at his apartment building, ever since he’d moved into 550 Central Park West several years prior.

Everyone knew about the strange noises that happened at night – it almost always occurred when people had just settled into sleep, only to be rudely awakened by squeaks and creaks of inexplicable origin. That, though, could easily be chalked up to piping, to people walking in the apartment above, to someone turning their television sets up a little too high at night. The building was old, after all, and such problems were common with the aging architecture; the owners knew of the problems, and maintenance was on it. Nothing that couldn’t be otherwise fixed with earplugs.

What wasn’t so normal was the crowd that had been gathering outside his building, and the cop cars that converged just as he made his way into the building – and then securely barred the broken baffle gate as he watched, effectively trapping him in the building. That in itself probably should have been a warning, the more Shiro thought about it. That, and the fact the elevator wasn’t working, its half-open panels showing erratically flickering lights, and floor meter above the door wildly fluctuating between multiple floors.

As a result, he had to take the stairs. He didn’t mind it, but he wished building maintenance would be more prudent in fixing problems in the building. The turnstile in the main lobby had been destroyed, after all, and there was no sign that anyone had touched the shattered appliance since...well, since Allura. Allura was probably fine, though.

Not like him. The kicker was – just as Shiro was beginning to put away food – that suddenly, his front door ripped off its hinges, and he himself was knocked off his feet by a strong, howling wind that hurt his ears, flung his beloved Neppy plant and its pot onto the rug, and violently rattled his windows. He let out a shout and tried to stand up, only to find himself unable to move amid the sudden screams of unseen specters. He could barely see, for there was a sudden, blinding light that seared right into his retinas, forcing him to shut his eyes tight.

He could feel his bag’s contents – no, his chicken! – as it scattered all over the floor. He could hear his fridge door swing open – oh, not again! – followed by what sounded like the cracking of eggs, but was too loud to simply be that. Then, he was being pulled by something hot and tight around his arm towards his living room, and he couldn’t stop it—

Then just as fast as the unnatural fracas had started, it was over, and all was silent save for a strange humming in the air. As Shiro tried to blink the brightness out of his vision, he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy, you ok? Wait a second…” The blurry figure’s voice went from worried, to confused, to shocked, then to delighted in a mere instant. “Omigosh! It’s— _Hunk_! It’s Takashi Shirogane!”

 

 

_“Mr. Shirogane?”_

_Shiro looked up at the realtor as he stood in front of the window. Beneath him, Central Park and the city beyond spread out below and around him like a carpet with spikes sticking out of it. His eye had been trailing several birds that had perched on the sill. They were beautiful and fat and feathery, making many chirping sounds of different timbres._

_“Mm?” His voice betrayed his distraction. “Sorry, just…the view is beautiful.”_

_“Isn’t it?” The agent smiled, nodding. “This building has had so many famous tenants for that very reason - it’s the best view in the city. Did you know this apartment was home to a famous writer once?”_

_“No,” Shiro replied, his eyes slowly trailing back towards the birds as they hopped on the sill. “I didn’t. I just heard this place is really nice.”_

_The realtor looked down at her papers, letting out a hum as she nodded._

_“For a nominal fee you can change the paint and carpet – it would push the move-in date back a bit, but it would be worth it. And of course, we do allow certain types of pets so long as you pay a fee for them as well…” The agent’s smile widened, somehow. “So, what do you think?”_

_Shiro looked around. He could feel the excitement – and maybe a little bit of trepidation - in his bones at the thought of a change of scenery, a change of pace. The Galaxy Garrison was no longer where he belonged, after all. Not after what happened to him._

_He took in a breath, letting the smell permeate his nostrils. At the window, several more birds congregated, chirping to the previous group that sang before. He smiled at this._

_“Ok. It’s a deal.”_

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe it! You’re here, of all the places to find you…”

The one who had come upon him – Lance McClain, which he quickly and gushingly introduced himself as to Shiro – was now accompanied by his much larger and burlier companion, rapidly pointing his finger beneath his improvised janitor’s suit. The larger of the two, meanwhile, had sparkles in his eyes as he stared at Shiro.

“Uh…” Shiro began to feel cornered at all the sudden, unwanted attention he was receiving. “Hi? What are you doing in my apartment?”

“I can’t believe we’re meeting _the_ Takashi Shirogane while saving the world!!” The bigger boy was now gushing. “It is such an honor to meet you. Your mission to Kerberos was just…I actually was in the Galaxy Garrison when it happened, and—”

Shiro turned his head away from the two as they continued their platitudes, instead focusing his attention on the ruined food scattered on the floor. He dropped to his knees, staring at the carnage. It was all utterly destroyed by whatever had just happened; it was splattered on the walls, the floors, the ceiling. His carpet was covered with egg yolks and dirt from his now-damaged plant, and it was best not to think of what happened to the milk – especially while it boiled on the counter.

“My chicken…my delicious smelling chicken!” He licked his lips and stared forlornly at it as it let out a flatulent sputter, before finally collapsing into a pile of foul-smelling goo. “It was supposed to last me all week…”

He turned towards the two, who had finally stopped their chattering and were staring at him in confusion. He mustered up a very disappointed and annoyed glare as he met their eyes, feeling his pupils dilate as he did so.

“Why did you destroy my chicken!? My beloved Neppy!? My—!?”

“Oh, that.” The bigger boy’s mouth broke into a nervous, cheesy grin. “That’s just a result of the

proton stream interacting with it! That’s normal for our line of work. We can replace it!”

Shiro felt the pout forming on his own bottom lip; given how well these people preserved his chicken -  and his absolute favorite plant in the entire _universe_ – just then, he wasn’t sure about their ability to procure him a new one without blowing it up. Especially when the one called Lance backed away, nodding, only to trip backwards onto his couch. When he stood up, he left a butt-print of goop on the cushions.

“And my _couch_?”

“Warm water and scotchguard!” Lance nodded. “That generally gets the ghost goop off.”

Those last three words gave Shiro pause.

“Ghost goop.” He repeated it to himself as he crossed his arms, just to be sure he heard it right. “Ghost goo—explain, please.”

“Yeah!” Lance must have seen the very clearly skeptical expression on Shiro’s face, because his own smile wavered. “I guess you don’t believe in them? Even though you just had an incident in your kitchen?”

Shiro merely narrowed his eyes.

“ _Explain, please._ ”

 

* * *

 

_Shiro enjoyed staying at 550 Central Park West. It was just the perfect place for him to feel high in the sky, but not too high. The neighborhood was lovely, and absolutely nothing bad happened to him. Ever. Still, there were some moments here and there that got on his nerves._

_Like the dogs in the building. They all tended to bark aggressively at him whenever he came into the vicinity of them. He couldn’t recall ever having a problem with canines before, but the ones at Central Park West seemed to particularly hate him for whatever reason._

_The Vasser family’s dog, in particular, was a nightmare. They claimed he was generally docile around other people, but every time he passed by them in the halls, or happened upon their door for whatever reason, the dog would instantly try to wrench itself away from its owners and get at him. It got loose once, and it was only with difficulty that its hateful snapping teeth were kept away from his neck. It was with even greater difficulty that Shiro was convinced to not get the dog sent away, but it went without saying that he hated the dog back ever since._

_As for other animals, they were few and far between – only one person he knew of, Allura, had pet mice, and hers were the only animals that hadn’t had something terrible befall them. There had been a stray cat around the building, apparently, but it mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where it went. Someone’s hamster was said to have ended up jumping out of a window, and another person’s bird was rumored to have tossed itself into a pot of boiling water during a full moon. All rumors, in the end, and not substantiated._

_Still, once or twice Shiro found himself awoken by the sound of a bird screeching loud and frightfully. The last time it happened, his window had been open. Shiro closed it before going back to sleep. When he woke up, it had been open again – and he had found himself wondering if he’d really closed that window after all._

 

* * *

 

“…And that’s why we’re here. To save the world.”

Shiro slowly blinked at Lance and the bigger boy – Hunk Garrett, as he called himself. He wasn’t sure whether he was going mad, or whether the two in front of him were on drugs. Perhaps it was both.

“So, let me get this straight. This building is haunted, and you’re here to banish…?”

“Zarkon the Galra God.”

“And he’s here—”

“Not quite here,” Hunk sheepishly interrupted. “This building is just the superconductive antenna that spiritual energy is absorbed into and then emitted outwards inter-dimensionally so that…it…”

Shiro, meanwhile, was rubbing his temples in frustration.

“You lost me at ‘building’,” he growled. “Could you make it a little bit _simpler_ for me, you two?”

The two looked at one another, then back at Shiro. Shiro, meanwhile, ignored the concern starting to emanate off them.

“It’s a magnet with a door on top.” Lance brought his hands apart. “Once it opens, Zarkon comes, starts his invasion, and then boom. Armageddon. Earth does kablooey.”

“Better,” Shiro mumbled. He pointed at the giant black boxes strapped on his unwanted visitors’ backs. “And you are going to stop this…invasion…with those.”

“That’s right,” Hunk nodded. “These proton packs are all that stand between us and the end of the world as we know it. Our particle throwers can strip electrons from protons, which is important when we look for ghosts. It helps trap them.”

“Yup, they’re designed to seek out supernatural entities!” Lance cocked his particle thrower, then looked towards the door. “Isn’t that right, Pidge?”

Instantly, Shiro’s head turned towards the door, where a very short person of indeterminable gender stood, looking cross at Lance.

“You  _just_ noticed me?” They threw their hands up. “Seriously, I’ve been standing here for five minutes while you were yapping! Five minutes we can’t get back now!”

“Ok, ok, but look!” Lance was once more pointing at Shiro; Shiro was tempted to bite the finger, but naturally refrained from doing so. “Look who it is! It’s the captain of Kerberos!”

Pidge’s eyes widened as they looked over at Shiro.

“Shiro?!” Pidge’s eyebrows then furrowed. “You…you live here? Seriously? _This_ is how we find you again?”

“Ah…” Shiro stared back. Pidge looked surprisingly familiar. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

Pidge’s response was simply to stare at Shiro with thinly-disguised suspicion.

“You should, Shiro.”

 

* * *

 

_“I can’t believe it!” Matt Holt was jumping around happily, grabbing Shiro’s hands and nearly ripping his suit off. “We’re going! We’re going to Kerberos! All of us!”_

_“Yes.” Behind them, Sam Holt smiled. “We’re all going to Kerberos. Including you, Shiro.”_

_“Really?” Shiro felt his heart start to pound. “So…they were ok with it. Ok with me.”_

_“It took some convincing, but I did it.” Sam let out a deep breath. “We’ll also have to prepare, help the science corps out with certain supplies. A year and a half in space isn’t exactly going to be kind on all that we bring, living or otherwise.”_

_Shiro and Matt both looked at one another._

_“Hey, you think I should call my sister to let her know not to touch my stuff while I’m gone?” Suddenly, Matt was running towards the door. “I think I’ll do that!”_

_“Hey, wait, we have to choose our ani—” Shiro sighed as Matt disappeared out of the room. “He always does that, doesn’t he, sir?”_

_“I’m used to it.” Sam’s smile became mockingly sinister. “I think this calls for a spider in the bed, don’t you think? How about Sally? She’s big enough.”_

_Shiro looked at the cages, a smirk on his own face._

_“Why not Sally and Sonic? Two for the price of one.”_

 

* * *

 

“…Oh. You look like Matt Holt.”

“Of _course_ I do.” Pidge’s frown deepened at this. “I cut my hair months ago, which you would have known if you kept in contact with us at all!”

Shiro felt his spine contract nervously at this, and he stepped back. They – though whoever they were exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure -  were mad at him. He could definitely tell.

“Seriously!” Pidge huffed as they clenched their fists, their eyes looking damp with water. “What have you been _doing_ for the past two years?! No phone calls, no e-mails…you used to come over every weekend and for _Christmas_ , for quiznak’s sake, and then nothing!”

“I’ve…been here.” Shiro blinked. “I retired after Kerberos.”

“Yeah? And that’s it?” That had the opposite effect of what Shiro was expecting, and now Pidge was wiping their eyes with their hand. “That’s all it took, huh? You retire after the most important flight in human history, then you get all famous with those stupid endorsements, and suddenly we’re not good enough for you or something, so you just up and disappear without another word?! I mean, what the _quiznak_ , dude!? You were like a big brother to me and you left us! All I had of you after that were those lame cereal commercials you did!”

“I haven’t been—I’ve been writing about my experiences,” Shiro lamely tried again. “Trying to collect my thoughts. I thought—”

“Oh, big whoop, you’re writing a book and you didn’t say anything about that either!”

“Yeah.” Shiro pointed towards his bedroom, feeling his shoulders tense defensively the longer Pidge looked at him with such a sharply accusatory expression. “I’ve been writing since I’ve arrived here. I figured that after everything I experi—”

“Woah, really!?” Instantly Lance was in Shiro’s bedroom, eliciting a growl from Pidge. The sound of clacking keys filled the air. “…Wow, this is…”

“I know, it’s not exactly polished.” Shiro could feel his face turning red. “But I’m hoping to get it published soon.”

“I don’t know if that’s how I’d put it.” There was a question hanging in Lance’s words as he responded. “Actually, this all looks like a bunch of gib—"

“Oh my god, _Lance_ , get out here right now!” Pidge started shouting, eliciting a wince from Shiro. For someone so small, their shout was quite piercing. “Seriously, time is a luxury we don’t have!”

“Yeah, Lance, come on. Coran’s probably looking for us right now.” Hunk looked back at the door, then back at Shiro. “Zarkon isn’t going to wait for us. Neither is Allura.”

“Allura—!” Lance gasped at the word, and was back in the living room within seconds. “Oh, quiznak! That’s right, we gotta save her! Sorry, Shiro.”

“Wait.”

Shiro held a hand up, walking towards  the group. They were already turned and filing towards the door, their giant proton packs exposed to him. Lance’s was blue, while Hunk’s was yellow. Pidge’s was green.

“Allura’s in danger?” Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed. “You should take me with you.”

“You know Allura?”

“Of course I do! She’s my neighbor,” The former astronaut replied. “She’s…she’s always been good to me—”

 

* * *

 

_Shiro didn’t generally go outside unless it was necessary on certain days. Shiro found himself hating rainy and snowy days especially. It was strange, since he couldn’t recall hating such things before moving into 550 Central Park West. On those days, he deigned to excuse himself from his writing duties to go to the building gym, to keep himself in shape._

_Often, he would run into the lovely woman with the white hair. She lived up on the highest floor of the building, which meant she was quite wealthy, even compared to nearly everyone else who lived in the building. But Shiro liked to think that they were something like friends, despite the obvious disparity in wealth._

_They were fitness buddies at the very least. She always wore her hair in a bun, which seemed to mostly cover her ears. He was always tempted to ask if he could push her hair over her ear, for some reason. He never acted on it, though. He didn’t want to offend her._

_“Oh, Shiro.” She would always greet him whenever they bumped into one another in the gym with an expression that was always unreadable, yet always kind, and a twinkle in her eyes that outshined her somehow-too-heavy eye makeup. “I was hoping to see you.”_

_“Likewise.” Allura was always such a nice lady to him. “Lousy day outside, isn’t it?”_

_“I guess you’re not a fan of getting wet?” Allura would always smile mysteriously whenever they talked. Not that Shiro minded. He thought she had a lovely smile. “So, I was thinking of you.”_

_“Oh, you were?” On one occasion, Shiro was wiping his brow after a particularly long exercise. “What for?”_

_“Well, I decided to try out a new healthy-style recipe today.” Allura’s smile spread. “A low-calorie tuna casserole - you want me to drop it off at your room? I think you’ll like it very much.”_

_Shiro could almost smell and could almost feel the tuna in his mouth at her question, and he nodded almost instantly._

_“I would love that.”_

_“I knew you would.” Allura’s mysterious smile continued as she descended from her treadmill, folding her arms. “Ah, also, I just wanted to tell you that you left your television on? Or perhaps your radio? Not too loud, but I could hear it as I was heading to the elevator.”_

_“I did?”_

_“I think so,” Allura replied. “I’d go check it, just in case. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the tenants’ association for something so silly, you know?”_

_Shiro naturally thanked her, and quickly went back upstairs to check on his television. It was early in the morning still, so the news was on, or so he had assumed. When he opened his door, however, he found that none of his electronics were on. He frowned. It couldn’t have been him, and he didn’t hear anyone else’s televisions or radios through the walls, either._

_He also hadn’t thought about it since that morning. Maybe Allura was simply mistaken and it was someone else’s apartment._

 

* * *

 

“Did someone mention Allura’s name!?”

And then another, much older person popped their head into the room without any warning, causing Shiro to jump back with an alarmed hiss. They, too, wore a jumpsuit, and had a proton pack on them, though theirs didn’t seem to be on. They had ears that were long and pointed, unlike anyone he had ever seen before.

They also happened to have a very stylish and lovely looking orange mustache to match their unusual hair color. For some reason, Shiro wanted to pull on it. Yank it until it died. It had to be alive, right? No normal hair was that shade in nature.

“I can’t believe you all!” And, indeed, the man was throwing his hands up in the air – one seemed to have a strange-looking handheld computer in one of them. “My princess is in danger, I can practically _smell_ the ghost activity in this apartment, and you’re all talking to this poor stranger while the end of the world is nigh! Come on now, straighten up! Voltron needs to get _moving_!”

“I’m coming with you.”

Everyone’s head turned to look at Shiro as he spoke. He blinked, looking back and forth at each face.

“What? I just said she’s my neighbor. Sort of, she—I mean,” Shiro carded his hair with a huff. “We know each other a little. She makes me tuna casseroles, so she’s got to be nice, right? And I want to help if she’s in danger or hurt.”

“Oh, you remember and care about _her_ perfectly fine, but—"

“Pidge, calm down. Shiro…are you sure about that?” Hunk’s words were slow, careful. “You don’t know what we’re up against.”

“Yeah, Hunk’s right.” Lance turned back to look at Shiro, biting his bottom lip. “What we’re facing isn’t exactly human. Or living. Or remotely nice.”

“That’s right!” The orange-haired man pulled on his mustache, twirling it between his fingers. “Zarkon the Galra God is a Level 7, no doubt! He’s just as strong now as he was when Voltron first faced him.”

“Voltron?”

“Indeed!” The orange-haired old guy swept his hand around. “These three young, intrepid, and brave individuals are Paladins of Voltron!”

This earned the other a blank stare from Shiro.

“What?”

Shiro had to know.

“If they’re paladins…like knights, right?” Which sounded ridiculous because they weren’t wearing particularly knightly clothing. There was also one other thing. “Then where are your horses?”

Horse sounded delicious at that moment, speaking of, despite everyone again looking back at him like he’d grown an extra head from the question.

“Er, anyways,” the mustached man coughed as he led the group into the hall, “Shiro – that’s your name, right? – we don’t have horses. Instead, what being a Paladin of Voltron means is that one is a paranormal detective with the ability to use the equipment you see! Each of these packs are quite powerful, and each Paladin is quite able to handle normal ghosts on their own—”

“Except Lance.”

“—but you should see all five of them in action—"

“Ghhk—” Lance bristled at Pidge. “HEY! The Sedgewick Slimer was a _beast_ of a ghost that no one else could have handled!”

“You destroyed their ballroom and half the 12th floor chasing a nuclear-green, Butterball turkey-shaped blob that I placated with a pound of Jamaican patties.”

“THAT WAS LUCK ON YOUR PART—!!”

Shiro hissed at the loudness that Lance’s voice suddenly emitted, bringing hands to his head. At this, Pidge looked back up at Lance and punched him in the elbow.

“Idiot.”

“Ow!”

Voltron. The name sounded vaguely familiar, as did that of Sedgewick. He likely had read about them online, or perhaps saw them on the news. He hadn’t pegged any of the kids around him as paladins, though. Or even as detectives – they seemed too disorganized, too rowdy. Such a spectacle as Pidge beating up Lance would have never happened in space, much less at the Galaxy Garrison.

“Children!” This time it was Hunk pushing between the two. “Can we _please_ concentrate on the superconductive antenna that is this building!? And the fact it’s about to open up to let a super-evil dude into our world!? And _also_ the fact that Keith isn’t here yet!?”

The two stopped, looking over at Hunk.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lance mumbled. “I mean, I guess having Mr. Personality here _would_ make things easier, but…”

“Stop it, Lance.” Pidge looked down at her watch. “If he’s not here in ten we’ll have to go on without him, with or without confirmation that the containment unit’s re-sealed. But I really hope he’s ok either way.”

Shiro frowned at the name. Keith. It sounded familiar, somehow. He knew he’d heard it before, somewhere. He just couldn’t recall where.

 

* * *

 

_One morning, several months after he’d moved into 550 Central Park West, his refrigerator had started to act up._

_He’d slept in a bit, and had gone to open his refrigerator door, only to find there was nothing in his refrigerator. Not just ‘he was out of bread again’ nothing, either. It was literal void where his shelving was, and the cold of space blew into the kitchen, freezing his brow. Far in the distance of the blackness (was his refrigerator that deep to actually contain that much nothing?) he saw a hooded figure floating in front of a glowing, clawed mechanism._

_“_ ** _O_** **_Holy God!_** _” Stringy white hair burst from the cloak, as gnarled blue hands thrust upwards from billowing sleeves. “_ ** _O Great Emperor! Heed your Gatekeeper, for the time nears for your return to the dimension o—_** _”_

_Shiro huffed and closed the door – he had to be imagining it. At the least he was not fully awake, so perhaps he was just remembering his dream from the night before. Indeed, when he opened it up again a moment later, his fridge was back to normal, with nearly everything accounted for. To his annoyance, however, his eggs had disappeared. The eggs he’d only bought the previous day._

Great. My breakfast is completely ruined! _Shiro poured himself a glass of milk, letting out a growl as he downed it – and then downed some more straight from the carton._ At least I still have my turkey sandwich for lunch…

_To be on the safe side, he reported the incident to the building’s caretakers, who claimed to have fixed his fridge within the week. Unfortunately, the crazy void kept showing up from time to time when he opened his fridge, and various foodstuffs of his kept getting taken by the mysterious, no-good, white-haired food thief._

_It probably wasn’t a dream, then. He had half a mind to get the fridge replaced, if it kept up, especially after the being left him without the cheesy yam and Dorito salad Allura had thoughtfully made for him._

 

* * *

 

Shiro got a very quick crash course on just what Voltron was as he and the so-called paranormal detectives went – slowly – towards the elevator. Hunk had taken out what he called the PKE meter, pointing out that there was a fluctuating energy source, right within the vicinity of the group. So naturally, while they waited for Keith (where _had_ he heard that name before?) and for Hunk to pinpoint the source’s location, Coran – the man with the mustache Shiro just wanted to pull on for some reason – did his best to educate Shiro on the situation of, as he put it, busting ghosts.

Shiro hoped he was getting most of it – and that there wouldn’t be a test on it later, as he stared down at the copy of Tobin’s Spirit Guide, The Abridged 10th Edition that had been unceremoniously shoved into his hands.

“Voltron as a force was created many centuries ago, of course! Back when you humans were only just beginning to figure out that planting your own food was a good thing!” Coran pulled at his mustache as Shiro flipped through the book, pointing out a picture on one page that looked to be a photo of a cave painting. “Of course, that’s also when the Alteans first came to your world and sealed away the demon king of the Galra, Zarkon, in a rift leading to another dimension. We’d been having a tough time with him for sure during _that_ war, especially with how spiritually sensitive the Earth’s ley line arrays are!”

“Ley lines?”

“Lines of compact, psychokinetically-charged quintessence present on any given form, living or dead.” Coran flipped to a page with well-practiced ease, revealing a diagram of a human body with lines over it. “Planets have them as well, and where larger and more ley lines cross on a planet, there is a far greater chance of supernatural activity, you see.”

“And New York City happens to be where multiple lines cross a ton. The Knickerbocker, the Lenapehoking, and the Orange alone all cross at this building…probably why Zarkon’s fan club built it here.” Pidge tried a lock, then opened a door with unsettling ease. “Quiznak, where are all the building’s other residents? The cops told us no one’s left the building since it was closed off!”

“Probably absorbed into the building’s spectral field in anticipation of Zarkon’s return. They should be mostly restored when we stop Zarkon. Mostly. _Anyways_ ,” Coran continued as if what he just said was a normal thing to happen on a Tuesday, “when Zarkon and his cohorts were first sealed within the inter-dimensional rift, the war between the Alteans and Galra ended, but at the cost of those who sealed him away. What’s left of those individuals, well…”

At this, Coran shook the particle wand he was holding.

“Their rift-touched quintessence was fused into the particle accelerators used in these weapons, and thus became upgraded to what we call the Lions – the pinnacle of Altean alchemy and science. This one is the Black Lion. And I’ve been guarding them ever since!”

“Really.” Shiro flipped through the book with a sigh. “You’re _that_ old?”

“Old is relative, and I’m not _that_ old,” Coran tsked in response. “I was in fact placed in cryogenic sleep for many cento-pheebs – er, centuries in your Earth parlay, my boy – with my dear princess and the survivors of the war, awaiting the moment when Zarkon might return to menace this reality and the Lions would be needed!”

“If this guy is such a threat,” Shiro shut the book. “Why didn’t you just bring him out and just bust him again beforehand? Especially if you’re the one who has been holding on to these magical weapons?”

“As much of an honor as it would be to become a Paladin,” Coran said as he pulled at his mustache with an air of irritation, “they will only work with an individual that can not only bond sufficiently with them, they must also withstand the drain that the bond presents. You see, the Lions are very…selective of who they bond with. Like one of your Earth cats, really! Without that bond there’s no power, and no power, no Voltron!”

“Mm hmm.”

“Don’t look so disinterested, my boy!” Oh, now he was getting a finger-wagging. Shiro instantly stiffened as Coran’s finger shook in front of his face. “It truly is a special privilege! The Lions grant each of their wielders the ability to combat spiritual menaces in ways no other person on this planet can! The deeper the bond, the deeper and more varied the abilities. However, these abilities can be quite taxing, so only those with great willpower and spiritual strength can be a Paladin candidate!”

“That’s why we only truly come together as a last resort!” Lance’s head popped out of a door he had just kicked open. “Especially since we run the risk of crossing streams when we unleash the full power of Voltron. Also, I hope this person still has a deposit left because I think I just broke a hinge. Whoops.”

“Crossing streams?”

“Lance, stop breaking everything so we can actually get _paid_ for this.” Pidge popped their head out from their door, leaving Lance to sputter from his position. “Crossing and mixing high-powered quintessence streams together is dangerous, Shiro. The users’ bonds and minds combine to create a powerful energy that can combat higher-Class entities. But, well, aside from the fact we don’t have all five wielders to do it _properly_ …doing it without enough energy and a sufficient bond can make all our individual atoms go… _poof_.”

“Poof?”

“Poof! Erased from existence!” Pidge let out an explosion sound from her mouth and wiggled her fingers. “I dunno about you, but I’d rather not be disintegrated before I’ve graduated high school.”

“Wh—” Shiro’s eyes widened. “You’re not even out of high school and you’re trying to bust a ghost _god_?!”

At this, Pidge’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“No, of course I’m not.” Why did it seem like Pidge was suddenly judging him yet again? Shiro felt his hackles start to rise in alarm. “But again, _surely_ I thought you would—”

“Hey, just finished!” Hunk abruptly cut Pidge off as he exited a door at the end of the hall. “Sorry, man, I just finished the PKE sweep. Pretty sure we’re probably going to be dealing with some higher Class entities when we get closer up, but right now I can’t get a clean bead on this floor. It keeps fluctuating.”

“Between what levels?”

“…Um, Levels 4-6. So we may end up dealing with an entity of at least…uh…human-level intelligence and power if we run into them. Something pretty strong. Hopefully not, but there’s another ghost here in our vicinity that we need to keep watch for, just in case we need to do some extra credit busting.” Lance winced as Hunk gulped. “Guys, I _really_ think we should wait for Keith before we go further. I mean, I know we gotta deal with the Gatekeeper and Keymaster and stuff, and I definitely know we gotta free Allura, but I’d feel way more comfortable if all four of us were together—"

He was cut off as the building began to rumble, and outside the clouds in the sky began to turn purple.

“…Ok, forget waiting for Keith.” Lance was zipping down the hall towards the stairway. “He’ll get here when he gets here! _ALLURA!!_ IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, I’M COMING TO SAVE YOU!!”

“Wait— _Lance_!! Don’t go alone!!”

Shiro watched as Lance quickly disappeared at the other end of the floor, right to the stairs, followed by Hunk. He frowned as he felt Pidge’s eyes still boring into him, though when he turned to face them, they looked away, face red.

“Are you ok, Pidge?”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m _fine_.” The young teen looked away. “Perfectly peachy. Let’s just _go_ , Shiro.”

Shiro opened his mouth to ask if they were absolutely certain, since it really didn’t seem like they were all right. However, before he could get closer, they were storming off without another word. After a moment, Shiro slowly began to follow, that unsettling feeling in his stomach slowly growing.

He said something wrong, he just knew it. It was clear he just wasn’t going to change Pidge’s mind, and they were angry at him somehow. But aside from the whole situation of not keeping in contact, he couldn’t figure out what or _why_ , and that worried him more than the ghosts at the moment.

It wasn’t the only thing that worried him, especially if Allura really was in danger.

 

* * *

 

_He probably should have realized there was something up with Allura earlier. In truth, though, Allura had always been unusual, ever since she moved into the building. She ran her own little shop near Columbia University – a little hip place that sold crystals and incense and various soft drinks and tonics of her own making, as well as palm-reading services. She otherwise always seemed strangely closed-off – she never talked about where she came from, and she never showed him the pet mice she claimed to love and have a special connection to for some reason._

_However, Shiro never would have anticipated Allura’s behavior the last time he saw her the previous day, as she passed him on the ground floor of the building. Allura, who seemed to never have a hair out of place on her head or a wrinkle in her clothing, instead looked like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Her eyes seemed to glow a strange golden color, replacing the blue in her irises; her skin seemed sallow, and the black under her eyes looked dry and scaly._

_She had leaned onto him, her longer-than-normal nails digging into his skin as she grabbed his arm. Her half-lidded eyes seemed to flash with a want that Shiro couldn’t define, but it put him on edge the moment he looked into them. That, and she was only wearing a t-shirt and no pants. She actually looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, the more he thought about it._

_“_ **_Keymaster?_ ** _” she almost purred at him, her voice deep and languorous. “_ **_Are you the Keymaster?_ ** _”_

_Oh. Of course. She must have locked herself out of her apartment on accident._

_“…The locksmith’s on the 3_ _rd_ _floor, Allura.”_

 _“_ **_I am the Gatekeeper._ ** _” The other bared her teeth as she smiled, which looked sharper than normal. “_ **_I am Haggar._ ** _”_

_“If you need to call him and he’s not in his office, you can use my phone to reach him. I forget my keys every so often myself. Oh, but if you can wait for five minutes, I also—”_

_Allura’s response was to grab his phone and crush it with her fist, before dropping the broken remnants on the floor._

_“Allura—?!” Instantly he was on his knees, staring at the pieces of plastic and glass all over the floor. “My phone!”_

_“_ **_There is no Allura._ ** _” The purring seemed to deepen until Allura’s voice sounded horrible, cruel, and very unlike his favorite neighbor. A wind began to blow around her, and she floated a foot off the floor. “_ **_Only Haggar!_ ** _”_

_Then, with a sickly crack, her head – and nothing else – turned towards the revolving baffle door that led outside, as her hands began to glow._

_“_ **_You are not the Keymaster, but you are one of ours._ ** _” She thrust one of her hands out, and her eyes flashed bright yellow. “_ **_Bear witness! Our Holy God shall return to this cursed plane to reign o’er you all!_ ** _”_

_Shiro let out a shout, rolling away as the turnstyle suddenly groaned, and then was blasted out of place by an unseen force, knocking the doorman over and smashing into the cars across the street. Glass flew everywhere, and the gilded steel frame of each panel bent in several different directions from the sheer strength of the attack as it rolled on the sidewalk. Without another word, save for a very un-Allura-like cackle, Allura and her wild hair floated out of the hole created, her body cracking and twisting around as it recalibrated with her head. Screams and car horns began to echo through the street and into the building lobby._

_Oh, this was bad. Not only was Allura – the one person he’d really bonded with since he moved in - probably going to get kicked out, but he had to get a new phone. Shiro let out a forlorn sigh as he picked up what was left of his cell and proceeded to walk out of the hole where the revolving door had once been._

_“You also gave me a spare key, Allura…just in case…”_

 

* * *

 

“Shiro? Shiro, are you paying attention?”

Shiro looked up from his brand-spanking-new phone at the voice. Looking around, he found himself staring at Hunk and leaning on a staircase railing.

“I’m fine.” At least, he was pretty sure of it. “Why?”

“You, uh, kind of zoned out just now.” Hunk had a hand on his shoulder. “You sure you’re ok? I don’t want Coran to bust out the checklist or anything on you, or something like that. You’re probably already overwhelmed with all the stuff we’ve been telling you.”

“The checklist?”

“Uh, well,” Hunk rubbed the back of his head. “We call it the checklist, but it’s really a bunch of questions to make sure you’re not just hallucinating a ghost sighting or mentally disabled – I mean, obviously you’re not those things, there’s obviously ghost activity here. There’s also stuff we ask to make sure you’re not possessed, or even a ghost yourself. It’s all standard and we’d normally have asked you before dragging you with us, but time isn’t exactly on our side.”

Shiro’s hand gripped the railing as he felt the stairs beneath his feet rumble.

“Right.” What Hunk said made sense at least. “I guess there’s no chance I’ll wake up and find out this is all a weird plant-induced nightmare any time soon, right?”

“Your plant?”

“My Neppy.” Shiro nodded with a sigh. “It makes me feel funny. A good, nice, relaxing funny, but still funny.”

“Never thought you were into that kind of, uh, stuff…”

This earned Hunk a look. Neppy was a good plant that made him feel nice when he was around it.

“…Anyways, look. I know this has all gotta be surreal for you, man.” Before Shiro realized what was happening, Hunk was clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s saying something considering you’ve been in space.”

“Hah.” Shiro chuffed at that. “Yeah, there are no ghosts in space. Also no noise—”

The rumble suddenly became violent, and Shiro felt the cast-iron rail give way from both his weight and the shaking, along with the stair around his feet. Hunk’s grip slipped from his shoulder, and the stairs a flight down suddenly loomed beneath him as he fell head first.

“ _SHIRO_ —”

Pure instinct welled up in his chest and kicked in as he fell. His body suddenly twisted, head first, then arms, then trunk, then legs. His head turned along with the momentum, and within seconds he landed on all hands and feet with a loud, echoing _SLAP_ on two sets of stairs, his hands lower than his feet.

“…And also, no inexplicable earthquakes.” Once the shaking stopped, Shiro sighed as he stood back up on his two feet, dusting himself off. “Space is nice. No gravity is weird, but…otherwise not bad.”

“How…!?”

Hunk stared at him with bugged-out eyes as he proceeded back up the stairs, this time crawling against the wall to avoid the hole that the staircase sported.

“What now?” Shiro was getting tired of people giving him looks he couldn’t entirely parse out. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Shiro, how—” Hunk began to flail his arms back and forth, towards where Shiro landed and then rotating back to where the hole lay. “You righted yourself in _mid-air_ . _How did you_ —?”

“I just did what came naturally.” Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see why that’s a big deal.”

“Guys!” Before Hunk could interject further, Pidge’s voice rang from above. “You ok down there?!”

“Yeah.” When Hunk didn’t respond, Shiro took it on himself to do so instead. “Yeah, we’ll be following you. Give us a second.”

With that, Shiro squeezed his way past a still-gawking Hunk, taking two stairs at a time with practiced leaps.

 

* * *

 

_That very morning, Shiro had been checking out a news article about the Galaxy Garrison’s future space missions in the Kuiper Belt when he thought he heard explosions. Multiple explosions, the sound and sensations of which caused every hair on his body to stand on end._

_As he threw open the curtains, he could see the bright red fireworks exploding into the sky, all of them shooting up from near the Hudson River. The river…thinking about it sent a chill down his spine that he couldn’t explain. Something about dumping. Something about sad eyes, staring at him. Angry voices, and blood._

_He shook his head and closed the drapes, just as he felt the building shake from another loud BANG that emanated from above. It might have even come from Allura’s apartment. But Shiro hadn’t seen Allura since she broke the front door to the building. He was starting to get a bit distressed about it._

_Being around Neppy always seemed to help with that. He began rubbing his face against some of the leaves, and—_

Well, _he decided after he woke up from an unexpected plant-induced sleep. The sky outside was turning purple._ I _am_ a little hungry, and I don’t have any food. Chicken sounds delicious right now…

 

* * *

 

“This is Allura’s apartment.”

“Oh…”

Lance was staring at the doorway of apartment 2206 when the rest of the group caught up with him, gasping for air from the climb up. Or rather, Lance was staring at what was left of it, and the home within. Furniture and walls alike were shattered and scattered around, with a thin veneer of translucent slime covering the remains. A giant hole in the wall revealed the city beyond, and the worsening weather that now encompassed the landscape. A dark, swirling purple vortex had begun forming above the building; lightning, thick and yellow, shot from cloud to twisted cloud.

“Allura.” The hurt on Lance’s face shadowed his eyes as he stood in front of the carnage, his wand clattering to the floor. “Why didn’t you tell us you were fighting this before…we could have helped you before it got to this…!”

“There now, lad.” Coran brought a firm hand to Lance’s shoulder. “I’m certain that Allura gave it her all when she figured out what was happening. She’s strong.”

 _“_ **_Are you the Keymaster?_ ** _”_

The thought popped up in Shiro’s mind, unbidden.

“Because she’s the Gatekeeper, right?”

Everyone’s head once more whipped over towards Shiro as he spoke.

“The Gatekeeper, Shiro?” Coran’s eyes widened. “Where did you hear of that!?”

“Allura told me,” he shrugged. “She said she was looking for the Keymaster, that I wasn’t who she was looking for. That I was one of hers.”

A sheepish beat.

“I really just thought she needed a locksmith.”

“ _Shiro_!” The next thing he knew, Pidge was grabbing him by the arms and shaking him. “Oh my god, why didn’t you tell this to us earlier!? You’re telling us that the Gatekeeper…that Allura’s not just been kidnapped, she’s been _possessed_ by that witch!?”

“Ah, I really should have suspected.” Everyone turned to Coran as he spoke, his frown somber. “Allura was always sensitive to quintessence and the potential for consciousness override, even before she went to Oriande. Much like poor Honerva was – phantasmal manifestations really do draw towards master Altean alchemists.”

Coran sighed resignedly, pulling on and twirling his mustache even harder. It made Shiro want to do likewise, just to see what it was like to tug on it. Why did the man have to have such a bright color for his hair?

“And I…suppose it _does_ explain why she wasn’t returning my phone calls in the lockup…nevertheless, Paladins, I apologize for not thinking of such a possibility sooner.”

“Lockup?”

“Oh, we were arrested this morning and I needed to bail us out,” Coran replied, as if such a thing was as normal as picking out a second muffin for breakfast. “A misunderstanding about the nature of our work, nothing more! We cleared it up with the mayor, thankfully.”

“I don’t know if punching a retired admiral in the face counts as _just_ a misunderstanding,” Hunk protested. “I mean, yeah, she turned off the containment unit, but—"

“Hey, Sanda deserved it after releasing every ghost we caught back onto the city!” Pidge rolled up her sleeves and turned on her PKE meter. “And I’d do it again, too.”

“And _this_ is why you were kicked out of the Garrison, gremlin—” Lance let out a yelp as said gremlin proceeded to pinch his cheek and stretch it outward. “RAA _WAAA_ STOP—"

“ _You_ were kicked out of the Garrison too, you noodly jerk!!”

Shiro began to step into the ruined apartment as Lance and Pidge continued their scuffle. He’d never been inside his friend’s apartment; he generally kept to himself, and she to herself. Still, what was left of her living room seemed strangely bare. A broken hologram generator lay on the floor; a half-cracked crystal ball gently leaked its multi-colored contents over the carpet. A single couch was torn clean in half, it’s stuffing blown out into the city by whatever made the gaping hole.

That was when Shiro spotted, near the cracked ball, a nest of mice staring at him with glowing purple eyes. Behind them was piece of wall with a mark etched into it. As he continued to stare, and the mice began to chitter at him, it began to glow bright blue, then purple.

He let out as gasp as sudden, searing pain flashed across his forehead from temple to temple, and his eyes burned and saw only white.

“Shiro?” He barely heard Hunk talking to him as the world seemed to suddenly buzz around him; he began to feel tired, and he could feel the pull again, this time to the floor. “SHIRO!”

 

* * *

 

_“Can you believe it?”_

_Shiro was looking around him as he let out a sigh in his helmet, letting the near-lack of gravity lighten him, threaten to float him away from the solar system. Nearby, Sam Holt and his son were quietly gathering ice samples, cooing over how they would have much work to do during the ride home, how no human had ever come this far. How it was possible no human would come out here again for a long time._

_“Pluto’s still right there. That big one, right there. See?”_

_And then here was him. He craned his neck to see. It was much like seeing the moon on Earth, if the moon was browner, and bigger, and the gravity wasn’t anywhere near that of Earth’s. Indeed, without the gravity stabilizers he’d be floating right off the planet, he knew it._

_Even with them he felt too light for his own comfort, somehow, as he drifted through the memory of the historical moment._

_“And…there’s Charon.” It wasn’t much smaller than Pluto, but he could see it as well. “And we’re on a moon that’s smaller than almost every country back on Earth. I’ve lived in bigger cities. Even the Galaxy Garrison is bigger…”_

_Then he looked down._

_“I’m glad you’re here with me, too.”_

_At hims—_

No _, that wasn’t right, he was—_

 

* * *

 

The next thing Shiro knew, he was flat on the floor, and his eyes were coming back down from the top of his head.  

“...old you…” Fuzzy, distant words began to swim into Shiro’s ears. “...picious.”

“...ow, let’s…ump to conclus…”

“…ntil Keith gets here and we stop Zarkon. _Then_ we decide what to do with this situation.” Oh, that was Hunk. “Oh, hey, he’s coming to.”

“Ok, discussion tabled for now.” Lance held out a hand. “You, uh, you ok, Shiro?”

Shiro dazedly stared at the hand, before finally, shakily, taking it. Lance, in response, pulled him up with a surprising amount of strength for someone with his physique.

“I think so.” He shook his head, the strange memory already fading from his mind. “What happened?”

“Oh, um…” Why was Lance not looking at him? “You…uh, I mean _something_ triggered a positronic ward that Allura cast on her apartment. You know, it’s a thing to keep the ghosts from coming after her.”

“Oh.” Shiro frowned. “How come I was the only one affected?”

“You weren’t!” Lance’s voice went up a decibel as looked over, only to find Shiro’s eyes narrowing. “No, I-I mean, the mice were!”

“The mice were ghosts?” Oh, that was somehow disappointing. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Actually, they were possessed by Haggar!” And out from the ravaged bedroom came Coran, covered in scratch marks. “Allura’s mental link must have affected their minds as well. Luckily, when the ward was triggered, her influence was purged from them.”

“Then why did the mice attack you?”

“Elementary, my dear Number Four!” Coran cleared his throat as he held up a mouse cage. “They were not amenable to being put in here.”

In response, the four mice – their eyes now normal – let out their frustration with a multitude of squeaks, before turning to look at Shiro. Five sets of eyes met, and Shiro licked his lips. He could practically smell the fear and alarm coming off the small, furry, and in one case certainly large and _succulent_ yellow—wait.

The squeaks became frightened, and with a blink Shiro realized he had taken two steps towards the cage and it’s now-cowering murine residents.

“…As I was saying…” Then Coran was lifting the cage away from Shiro’s reach. “The ward wouldn’t have worked on Haggar if she’s possessing my poor princess – she would have known how to get around it for her purposes.”

“And the PKE levels are rising,” Hunk gulped. “Several hundred GeV per minute and the source is right above us!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Lance was already starting to bound up a set of stairs contained within a suspiciously refrigerator-shaped hole, pushing Pidge out of the way as he did so. “Out of the way, short stack!! _ALLURA_! I’M COMING!!”

“For the _love_ of—” Pidge grabbed her wand; sparks began to shoot out of the tip as they began to run up the stairs. “ _LANCE_! STOP BEING A LOVESICK IDIOT FOR ONCE!”

“ ** _ALLUUUURAAA!!_ ** ”

“IF YOU DIE I’M GOING TO CATTLE PROD YOUR CORPSE!”

Coran, and Hunk, meanwhile, each gave Shiro their own glances as they began to proceed up the stairs. The former, however, stopped before ascending.

“Shiro, a moment. You are more than free to back out of this, circumstances being what they are.” He paused. “And being what _you_ are.”

Shiro started at this, clenching his fists. He didn’t like how Coran said it, nor did he like that he was unsure what Coran meant by it. The way Coran frowned, the way his eyes seemed to crinkle as he scrutinized Shiro from head to toe.

_What?_

“What I am? I’m involved, and Allura’s my friend. She talks to me and feeds me, and…” That was about it, the more he thought of it. No matter. “I’m coming.”

“I mean it, Shiro. You must be certain you want to aid us in this endeavor.” There was a sternness in Coran’s voice as he folded his hands behind his back, despite the proton pack he wore. “Out of all of us, it is clear you would be in the most danger from Zarkon’s entrance into this world, or from anything else that may occur up here.”

“Why?”

Coran merely closed his eyes.

“It’s because I’m not a Paladin, right?” Shiro felt a little growl in his throat as he gnashed his teeth inside his closed mouth, and he indignantly turning away from the older man. “I’ve survived worse. I survived _outer space_. I can survive this.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you’ve survived many things.” Coran’s tone was irritatingly calm. “Nor can I stop you from coming with us if you wish to do so. But I must give you fair warning, my boy – if you continue on, you will be putting yourself at incalculable risk, and the Paladins of Voltron may not be able to help you when all is said and done. Do you understand this?”

Shiro didn’t respond, save with a glare out of the side out of his eye.

“…Very well.” With that, Coran turned on his heel and began to briskly walk up the stairs. “I’m sorry for my brusque demeanor, in that case. This way!”

It was a moment before Shiro followed the other; his own steps were loud and smacking against the marble steps, and they echoed into the sky. He could do this. Naturally. He didn’t see why he couldn’t.

Unless Shiro was missing something. And if so, he was missing something big, and he didn’t like that.

 

* * *

 

_“I want him on the mission.”_

_Mitch looked up in surprise at this. He was sitting at his desk, no doubt rifling through files related to the upcoming mission, when Shiro unexpectedly burst into his office. His arms were crossed tightly around his chest as he brazenly stared his superior officer down._

_“I’ve decided that I don’t want to look anymore. I have found the perfect candidate for our trip. If you don’t let him go…” There was a pause. “Then you’re just going to have to scrap the entire mission, because I won’t go. And you know what will happen if I don’t go.”_

_The commander gaped with his mouth open, before breaking out a disbelieving guffaw._

_“Good Lord, captain!” His hand smacked the side of his head. “Here I thought you were going to actually leave the mission to take care of yourself,_ _let_ _Wojciechowski take your place_ _. Seriously, all this drama for one pitiful little—”_

 _“I know. Sorry, Commander. Adam will just have to wait his turn.” Shiro sheepishly smirked, despite the churning sensation in his stomach caused by the mention of  his bo—his_ ex _-boyfriend’s name. “I would have thought you’d know me better than that by now. Besides, I think you can tell that he’s grown on me.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, like I couldn’t tell. You just never give up, do you?”_

_“Never knew how to, sir.”_

_“Clearly not,” Iverson’s hand went from his temple to rub his face. “Fine,_ fine, _I’ll put him in the pool for final consideration. No guarantees, though, understand?”_

_At this, Shiro looked down with a relieved smile._

_“I understand.”_

_Down at—no, no, that wasn’t right, he was looking up at himse—_

 

* * *

 

Bright light met Shiro’s eyes once more as he finally shook his head and tried to concentrate – just in time to see the figure crashing down. It rolled and skid to a halt a foot in front of him, smacking into the ledge of the rooftop.

Oh. That was right. He’d gone up to the roof with Voltron. He was trying to save the world. Everything was disorienting, confusing, as if he’d hit his head and fallen asleep for a long time. It could only have been a few moments, though, right? He could see Lance grabbing Allura on a stone table, and trying to shake her, only to have her laugh and knock him back with lightning. He could see the obelisks all congregated on the ledges of the roof, spaced out with every other concrete ridge; there was, as well, a massive, obelisk in the middle, with a set of doors already open embedded into the side that sat on the side in front of the stone altar. Within the door, amidst swirling purple clouds with an unnatural glow and an unending expanse, was a story-high door of pure stone at the center of it all, one that sat at the top of a glowing staircase.

Pidge and Hunk were up there trying to knock the inner doors down with strength alone. It wasn’t working at all – after a moment, a bolt of lightning had them both tumbling down to the ground nearby.

The clouds swirled dark and purple above it all in the sky, which made the wrongness more profuse. He could see mist forming at his feet, could see mist and liquid leaking and pooling from his feet, but that wasn’t right, why was there mist coming from _him_ —

He blinked and shook his head. The mist wasn’t from him. Of course not. That wasn’t important anyways. Not at the moment, at least. Instead, he shakily began to look down at the figure who had landed near him. It wasn’t any of the paladins he’d seen before, yet as Shiro kept looking, he nevertheless looked all-too-familiar.

The black hair, the violet eyes. He’d met this person before. He’d met him many, many times before, in memories just beyond his reach.

“Ugh…” Slowly, the figure stood up, rubbing his head. “Guys, don’t worry, I’m—”

Those eyes widened as they met Shiro’s. The name came, unbidden, from the depths of his mind. That was right. He knew who this was. They’d spent so much time together at the Garrison, how could he forget—

“Keith?”

Instantly, and instead of a hello, Shiro found Keith hoisting up his red proton wand and pointing it at him. He recoiled as, even with the energy and lightning buzzing around, he hit a wall, and the wand was pressed firmly against his chest. His hands up placatingly, even as he felt his heart race.

“No.” Keith’s hand was shaking, even so. “ _You_ don’t get to use my name.”

“Keith—”

“ _No._ ” Yellow flashed in Keith’s eyes, and the other grit his teeth. “Don’t. You can’t fool me, Haggar. You’re not—"

Another flash of lightning danced over their heads, followed by a wind that knocked them both off of their feet. Shiro managed to land on his hands and knees, while Keith landed on his stomach with a groan, the wand clattering from his hands.

“Keith!” Shiro tried to grab Keith to hold him up, only to have Keith yank his arm away. “Are you ok—”

“Don’t touch me!”

This time, Keith shoved Shiro away, slamming him into an obelisk, and he picked up his wand once more. The proton pack on his back began to him as he pointed the wand at Shiro once more.

Shiro’s stomach began to sink and crack at the sight of Keith raising up arms against him. Him, of all people.

“One step closer and I’m busting you. You can’t trick me.” Keith’s voice was thick with emotion. “You’re…you’re _not_ Shiro, you’re—"

 

* * *

 

_“—really going to do this?”_

_The words were muffled. It was behind a door, and Shiro strained to hear, even with his generally-good hearing. There was tension behind the lock, and next to him, he felt Keith slide next to him. He was younger then, smaller. Almost scrawny._

_“You too, huh.” Keith brought a finger up to his lips. “Shh.”_

_There was the sound of something heavy dropping onto a hard surface, followed by a huffing sound._

_“Don’t be like that, Adam. You knew, already, when we first—"_

_“No,_ you _don’t be like that! What’s it going to take to make you realize how worried everyone is – what you put everyone through whenever you leave Earth!? Do you ever even consider other people’s feelings when you make decisions like this!? Why can’t you just listen—”_

_“Because this isn’t your decision to make! I don’t say anything about what you do with your life, and I would hope that you’d do likewise and respect me!”_

_“This isn’t about respect, this is your_ health _! Your life! Do you even care anymore!? Or are you expecting me to do all the caring for you!?”_

_He’d never heard Adam so angry before, not even during an argument. Whatever had happened was bad, he just knew it, and he made to turn around and leave. Instead, Shiro suddenly felt himself being drawn into Keith’s arms, as the tones of those within the room escalated to near-shouting levels. It made his fast-beating heart slow down, just a little bit._

_Keith was always a calming presence, at least. It was why Shiro liked him most of all._

_“Don’t.” The other person’s voice became sharp. “Don’t make assumptions about what I think and what I feel!”_

_“No, you know what, I think I’m right! I don’t think you care anymore! You just want to go just to say you were the first man to land on…!”_

_“Is that really what you think? After all this time?”_

_“You know, I really_ do _think that now!”_

_He could feel Keith’s hand rubbing his back reassuringly. It was calm, soothing, and firm. Completely the opposite of Adam’s breaking voice._

_“We can’t keep doing this._ I _can’t keep doing this. Not again. If you do this mission, then when you come back…”_

_The hands began to travel to his head._

_“Don’t expect me to be here waiting for you, Shiro.”_

_Wait, but_ he _was Shiro—_

 

* * *

 

“Keith! _Wait_!”

The next thing Shiro knew, he was on the ground, on his knees, holding his head. He wasn’t hurt, not by Keith. Keith was actually being pushed away from him by Pidge, who was shouting now. Keith, however, was struggling, and close to breaking free from their hold.

The lightning was thicker and stronger, and it emanated almost entirely into and from Allura, who was now floating over the stone table, and another unidentifiable figure, who lay still at her feet. It all began to center on the pointless door, which began to glow such a bright purple that it almost seemed pink.

“We can deal with him later!” They sounded ready to panic, if not outright cry. “Come on, before the door opens! Allura’s—”

“No! We have to deal with him now, before—”

“Dealing with Shiro can come later, Zarkon’s going to emerge in this dimension if we don’t hurry!!”

“ _That’s not Shiro!_ ”

The words, coming from Keith, of all people, shot him straight in the heart. Instantly, Shiro’s head whipped over towards Pidge, then to Keith, eyes wide.

“What?” He felt his insides crumble at the anger, at the rejection. “Keith, what are you talking about—"

“Shut up!” The snarl on Keith’s face, and the sudden flash of yellow in his eyes, caused all negative sensations to intensify. “You have no right to speak, you lousy, lying, ecto-spewing—!”

“Keith! _FOCUS!_ ”

The back of Pidge’s hand stopped Keith’s rant cold. Keith’s proton wand dropped to the floor. Shiro stared at the wand, then at Pidge, whose back was to him as Keith staggered back, holding his hand to his swelling cheek.

“Pidge.” Shiro closed his eyes. Surely Pidge saw it when Keith couldn’t. “I _am_ Shiro. I’m the Shiro I’ve always been. You know that, right?”

Pidge slowly turned, and he could feel himself begin to hyperventilate at the look on their face. It was the same wariness, the same suspicion, the same expression they wore whenever he had previously said something wrong.

“I’m sorry.” They closed their eyes, and Shiro’s stomach plunged right off the side of the roof. “You’re not—”

Another, stronger pulse suddenly spread from within the inner doors, and blasted everyone onto their side, as a large bolt of lightning passed, first through Allura and the other stranger. Both screamed with pained delight as they threw their arms open to receive the malodorous energy.

“ ** _OH HOLY ZARKON!_ ** ” Shiro’s head bolted up, in time to see both figures transform as if by magic. The figure he didn’t know transformed into a hulking, furry, snarling thing with bat-ears; meanwhile, Allura’s skin became blue and withered, her teeth sharpened into fangs. Her laugh became the cackle of an old woman, and her clothing changed to swirling dark robes with a hood that flapped in the torrential wind even as the bat-creature gained a black suit of armor.  “ ** _THE DOOR IS OPENING! APPROACH US! HAGGAR, THE KEYMASTER, CALLS YOU TO THIS WORLD! HOLY ZARKON…!_ ** ”

The lighting burst from not-Allura’s chest, smashing into the door. The panels of the door began to crack and fissure, and with one last bang coming from the other side (but there was nothing there. There had to be nothing the—) white and purple light suddenly burst from the doorway, flinging the entryway open with an unearthly yowl.

_No._

It wasn’t the door making that horrible, inhuman noise, Shiro realized to his horror as he felt himself melt onto the concrete beneath his feet amid all the static and energy that seemed ready to tear him apart. It was him.

It was Shiro.


	2. An invisible man sleeping in your bed

_“Look, look look!” Matt was pointing excitedly towards the window of the lander module. “It’s Pluto!”_

_Shiro looked over, and leaned his face into the window, eyes wide. His hands slowly splayed onto the alloy-rimmed pane, as he looked over at the sandy orb. There was a giant heart on the surface – the left side was a peachy-orange, while the other half was pure white._

_“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful. I never thought…”_

_“Hey, everyone!” Shiro suddenly felt an arm around him, and he was drawn to a perfectly warm chest. “Let’s take a picture. C’mere, everyone.”_

_With that, Shiro turned, his back to the celestial body and the window, and held up the camera with the cheesiest grin he could muster. Reflected back on the frame was Shiro, Matt, Dr. Holt, and—_

_“Say Cheese, Kuro!”_

_Flash of light—_

 

 

He didn’t see the emergence of Zarkon before he blacked out from the flash. Everything was black, and everything hummed, and he felt like he’d fallen apart inside his own clothing. He was hot and cold at the same time, and he couldn’t even muster the energy to open his eyes to assess in order to assess what was happening, both in the now and in the past.

The past. The memory of the selfie suddenly bubbled up, and with it,  _Kuro_. That name. Thinking of it – and why it would be in his memories of space, as when was there an astronaut that Shiro knew by that name? – caused his head to hurt even more.

“…what he wanted to look like…hmm, looks like…”

Maybe he should have followed Coran’s advice after all.

“…Zarkon…uh, my name is Hunk Ga…” Hunk’s voice faintly drifted in and out of his ears. “…vening…duly-designated representative…city, county…United States on the planet Earth…”

“…Really, Hunk?”

It sounded like an exasperated Pidge.

“…cease all…forthwith to where you came from or…parallel dimension.” A pause. “If you please, your Majesty.”

The response from Zarkon, meanwhile, was crystal clear, as if Shiro was standing right next to the figure, and he was speaking directly into Shiro’s brain.  _One of us_ , not-Allura’s voice echoed in his mind. What, exactly, did that mean?

“ ** _Sub-creature. Your courtesy is appreciated, but utterly pointless. Are you a Paladin of Voltron?_  **”

Shiro slowly, woozily, finally opened his eyes - only to still find darkness all around him.

_Wh—why can’t I see!?_

His heart began to pound as he thrashed around, trying to find a light to follow. His efforts only tangled him up further as felt another powerful pulse shot out from where the demonic presence stood. He let out a shout, but he knew they wouldn’t be able to heed it.

He also didn’t hear Hunk’s answer, but he definitely experienced Zarkon’s rebuttal.

“WATCH OU—”

“ ** _Die._  **”

He could feel the concrete rattle and crack beneath his feet, and the rods holding up the building sag and bend, ever so slightly, from the sheer power that emanated from the figure. He could hear the pained moans and groans of the others around him; someone coughed, and a particle wand clattered.

**_Help._ **

The word was in his own voice, and it seemed to blossom into his mind at the thought of the others being badly hurt.

**_Help them._ **

He couldn’t explain it, especially since he’d only just met half of them a mere hour or so ago. Then again, doing the right thing was what Shiro would do. And he was Shiro, despite what Pidge and Keith tried to tell him, so it only made sense, didn’t it?

“…ext time…ks if you’re Voltron--” This time it was Lance shouting “--Just say  _yes_ and  _start shooting,_ bro!”

“I’m sorry! I...I thought being polite might evoke something in him from when he was alive—"

“Evoke nothing! We’re running out of  _time_!” He could hear the whine of the proton packs once more as Keith recovered his voice. “Quick...we gotta…we gotta hit him  _now_!”

“Right you are, Number Three! You must hit Zarkon before he completely manifests his true form in our dimension!” Coran, meanwhile, sounded completely recovered. “Now! Sticks out!”

At this, four loud clicking sounds echoed through the air, along with four voices responding to the mustached man’s entreaties.

“ _Holding!_ ”

The humming whine intensified as Coran continued.

“Heat them up!”

“ _Smoking!_ ”

The whine was accompanied by a loud buzzing; immediately, Shiro could feel heat and ice licking at his skin simultaneously.

“Raise them up, quick and hard!”

_“Ready!”_

“And that all sounds even dirtier when it’s coming from you, Coran!”

Lance’s comment earned him what could only a very loud slap to the head.

“Ow—!”

“Voltron! Show Zarkon the might of your human spirit!” Coran’s final shouts rattled down to Shiro’s bones as he finally, finally, found a light in the strange, ever-undulating tunnel he’d ended up in. “ _It’s busting time!_ ”

Lights exploded in front of Shiro as he  _stretched_ as hard and as long as he could, and at last burst out of the hole he was inexplicably in – his clothing. He let out a gasp as he heard the angry roars, and once more felt that horrible pull from his apartment. It drew him towards what looked like arched electricity of multiple colors, all of it being shot out from those awful particle wands.

It hurt. It hurt a great deal. It made him feel weak and so unlike himself. He could feel the life drain from him, could feel himself fall apart. But he couldn’t fall apart. Even if he wasn’t going to be much help, at the very least, he had to keep it together long enough to figure out why Keith had rejected him.

He was Takashi Shirogane. He  _was_.

Wasn’t he?

“ ** _Pathetic sub-creatures. This world is mine to destroy!_  **”

There was a monstrous purple thing that spoke with a deep, tiger-like growl of bemusement. It was standing in front of the massive ethereal doorway at the top of the stairs, twice as tall as any human and covered in a strange violet substance squirming over its torso, with a great cloak floating on an unknown breeze. Its eyes glowed purple as one green stream hit him, then a red, then a blue, and finally yellow.

When all four beams were finally trained on him, he suddenly burst into scattering purple sparkles, accompanied by a pulse that knocked everyone over to the concrete – including Shiro, again.

“Hngh!” Shiro shook as he hit, slowly bringing his head up as the roof swayed all around him. “Is everyone all right!?”

“…Uh…” From where he smacked into the northern obelisk, Hunk let out a groan. “Does this mean we won? I don’t feel like we won. I feel like we were hit by a truck.”

“PKE meter levels are rising…ugh…” Pidge rolled over from the roof’s edge, falling on their side. “This is bad, this is really bad!”

From her perch, not-Allura let out a click of her tongue as she watched the sparkles dissipate, forming instead into a great purple cloud.

“ ** _HUMANS._  **” She smirked beneath her too-long sapphire-tinted nose down at the group. “  ** _FOOLISH SUB-CREATURES. THE GOD-EMPEROR ZARKON, THE EVERLASTING, THE KRALZERANINE, THE TRAVELER KING REMAINS. NOW, CHOOSE THE FORM OF THE ROBEAST, AND PERISH!_  **”

“Form of the…Robeast?” Shiro frowned. “I thought that  _was_ his form.”

“Oh, no, Zarkon’s normal form is normally whatever he wishes it to be! Within reason,” Coran coughed. “But…erm, his Robeast form is much more destructive and taxing on his quintessence! It can also be anything so long as Haggar is capable of forming it for him on any given plane of existence!”

“So old biddy possessing Allura’s going to read our minds to find a form Zarkon can survive in our world with?” Pidge smiled, then nodded. “Oh, well, that’s easy then. We just have to give her the form of  _nothing_! Then he can’t form! Agreed?”

Hunk nodded, closing his eyes.

“Ok!” Pidge clapped their hands together. “Everybody empty your minds right now, or I kneecap Lance.”

“ _Wh_ —why me!?”

“Because no offense, but you’re the most likely to screw this up.” Pidge huffed and closed their eyes. “Just think of nothing, ok!? Be brainless! Be nothing, see nothing, think nothing...”

_Nothing…_

Shiro tried. He really tried to think of nothing. He admittedly didn’t know what nothing looked like when it came to thought, but—

“ ** _THE FORM IS CHOSEN!_  **” Not-Allura’s monstrous laugh suddenly echoed through Shiro’s mind, causing him to freeze. “ ** _ZARKON, AVENGE THY IMPRISONMENT, AND DESTROY THIS INFERIOR WORLD!_  **”

“ _WHAT!?_ ”

Everyone looked up, only to find that the purple cloud had disappeared entirely, thought clouds and energy still swirled ominously over and around. Immediately, Pidge took out their wand and gripped it like a baseball bat, clearly intending on swinging it at Lance.

“Pidge, no! I DIDN’T DO IT!” Lance squawked as he ducked down. “My mind was emptier than empty,  _please_ , I need my legs to do stuff!”

“Well,  _I_ didn’t do it!” Pidge spat out with barely-disguised rage. “But I’m going to smack whoever did!”

“Wasn’t me,” Hunk sheepishly held up a hand. “I went straight into my baking zone, and you know how I am when I’m there.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been Coran! He knows better from 10,000 years ago!” Pidge’s accusing eyes landed on the orange-haired man, who had somehow managed to sit on the roof in a cross-legged position in record time. “Right?”

“Mmm.” Coran’s eyes were closed, his hands folded in such a way that his fingers were pointed downwards.  “Nope, I’ve got nothing in here! I am one with nothing.”

“Then it had to be…”

Shiro’s eyes bulged out as Pidge and Lance immediately turned towards him with accusatory glares.

“It wasn’t me!” He had emptied his mind out, he had to have. “I swear!”

“How do we know that, though?” Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Considering what you are, maybe you’re unintentionally helping the baddies!”

“ _No!_ I’m Shiro and I’m definitely not helping the bad guys!” Lance, too, was against him? Was it because he was an absolutely norman human? “I just wanted to have my chicken in peace!  _In peace!!_ ”

“Actually, I…gotta agree with Not-Shiro,” Hunk’s response didn’t help the crack in Shiro’s chest at the realization that none of the Paladins believed him. “I mean, he wasn’t really doing anything evil when we first found him, and he’s been getting affe—"

Hunk was interrupted by a faint boom that echoed from the streets below.

“…cted…by…”

A second, louder boom, followed by a third coming closer to Central Park. Everyone tensed up as they began to congregate towards the direction of the sound.

“Oh,  _quiznak_.”

“Keith!” At this, Lance walked over to the obelisk Keith was standing next to. “Come on, we’ve got to fix—”

He stopped, as did Shiro, when he saw the horrified, defeated expression on Keith’s face.

“I…” Everyone stopped as Keith’s voice – unnaturally small and shocked – began to quiver as well. “It just…came to me.”

Boom. Boom.  _Boom_.

Instantly, everyone was jumping onto the ledge, with Coran lifting Pidge up onto his shoulders. Their own eyes bugged out as Pidge pointed towards a shadow that disappeared behind a building.

“Right there! Oh  _quiznak_ …”

“It can’t be.” Keith’s lip started to shake. “It can’t!”

 _BOOM._ Shiro could see the shadow of a massive head, and two ears on its top. He began to tense up, his back lowering as he readied himself for whatever was about to approach them.

“What did you  _do_ , Keith!?” Lance grabbed Keith by his lapels and began to shake him. “What were you thinking!? What horrible, violent, terrifying, unconscionable—”

That was when Zarkon the Robeast turned the corner with an earth-shaking BOOM beneath its feet, revealing its full glory to everyone on the roof.

“—unbelievably cute and cuddly giant  _hippo plush_!?”

Lance’s hands slowly fell from Keith, and he stared at the abominable artiodactyl, as did Shiro, as did everyone, in all of it’s utter adorableness. Everyone around looked horrified, and Shiro felt any real thought of how he would deal with the situation run away from him like a colossal clowder.

“…It’s Hippy—”

 

* * *

 

_“—the Hippo.”_

_The faded, frayed hippo plush was tucked firmly in Keith’s arms, but after a moment, he held it out towards Shiro in his hands._

_“When I was…” Keith started, then stammered. “When I—he was with me when my dad carried me out of the house. He helped me sleep at night after that. He was my only friend for a long time. Then I met you._

_“Keith…”_

_“I want you to take him with you alongside Kuro.”_

Kuro. That name again.

 _“_ Keith _.” Shiro’s voice cracked at the gesture. “You don’t have to give this to me. If this is that important to you, I couldn’t—”_

_“But I want to do this for you.” Keith looked up at Shiro. “If this is the only time anyone every goes to Kerberos, if it’s the last time you go out, then…I want to contribute something meaningful to the mission. Besides, I bet Hippy would love the weather out there. He’s gotten tired of the desert, after all.”_

_Shiro couldn’t help it. He grabbed Keith into a bear hug, and Keith leaned his head into his chest, his eyes shutting tightly._

_“Shiro…you better come back.” Keith’s voice waver. “Please. I can’t follow in your footsteps if you’re not there to show me the way.”_

_“I will.” Shiro’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I promise. I won’t leave you behind.”_

_From his leash, he watched, and—no, what leash,_ why was he on a _—_

 

* * *

 

“So.” Shiro actually let out a pained gasp, forcing himself back into the present, as Pidge spoke again. “Either I’m having a hemorrhagic stroke, or we’re going to be killed by Keith’s childhood binky. Either way,  _not_ how I anticipated today to end.”

“Pidge, come on!” Hunk was turning on his proton pack. “We have to stop it! Lance, get ready!”

“So,” Lance’s hands were violently shaking. “Does this mean Pidge will kneecap Keith instead?”

Keith, meanwhile, was staring at the giant, monstrous form of the adorable toy as it balefully shambled towards the building, letting out guttural roars as it proceeded to smash into the police line at the street in front of 550 Central Park West, followed by its glowing purple eyes shooting lasers down into the trees to its right. Shiro watched as the majority of the dots that were onlookers and police very wisely fled before that; the few that remained barely managed to flee amid the cotton feet of doom.

“…I’m sorry, Hippy.” There were tears flowing from Keith’s eyes, and his voice cracked with emotion, as he fired up his proton. “I know it’s just Zarkon using your body – you’d never hurt anyone on purpose. But I brought you into this world. I’m going to make sure to take you out.”

Even before Keith finished firing up his weapon, Shiro could feel his energy start to drain away again.

“LET’S GET HIM—”

Everything went white once more, and Shiro could feel himself unravel again. Why,  _why_ was he so easily being torn apart by the Lions—

 

* * *

 

_Shiro blinked as the camera flashed colors into his eyeballs. His heart was doing a drum solo as he held his helmet in his hands, his face hurting from all the smiling he had to do. He could feel Sam and Matt letting out sighs, before resuming their own expressions for the reporters._

_He had to admit he was a little nervous. On top of them being tedious and long sessions, crew photos were the last opportunity to talk to the public before the flight crew were confined to make their final launch preparations. It also meant the possibility of unexpected questions that could throw a wrench into the entire mission._

_“Are you excited, captain?” Another flash, as the reporters began their light-hearted interrogation. “One week from your historic launch to the furthest point in space that mankind has ever reached. Are you nervous about piloting such a distance?”_

_“Well,_ we’re  _not nervous,” Commander Holt chimed in, bumping his shoulder. “Captain Shirogane is the best pilot the Galaxy Garrison has to offer, and the perfect man for the job. It’ll be a smoother ride than a Sandpoint road, you can bet on that!”_

 _“Besides, the captain’s piloting isn’t the problem,” Matt wryly added. “It’s keeping Shiro away from the oven during meal time. Him cooking would be the_ real  _disaster.”_

_Laughter._

_“You’ll be gone for approximately 18 months, and you’ll be in medically induced comas for the majority of it to survive the long haul.” A male reporter clicked on his phone’s audio recorder. “Are you worried about the speed of your flight – you will be going upwards of 300 miles per second, after all - having an effect on your bodies during that time, especially given something like, say, Commander Holt’s prior medical history?”_

_His prior medical—it had to be the car accident they were referring to. How did they know, unless the medical checkups had been leaked—did that mean—_ who _—_

_Shiro could see Sam’s grasp on his helmet tighten ever so slightly. He himself managed to let out a professional, courteous smile, despite his desire to simply cut the session off right then and there. Sam wasn’t the only one with a questionable history of illness, after all._

_“Not at all,” Shiro answered easily, as if the possibility of other flaws of their team wouldn’t be exposed during the session. “The technology we now use in spaceflight is leaps and bounds ahead of what it was even several years ago, when I first enrolled in the program. It’s safer than it’s ever been for a variety of people, and that’s taking Commander Holt’s prior injuries into account, which, I’d like to clarify, were decades ago and have had no impact on his subsequent time in the Garrison. In fact, he’s never been healthier, and I can confidently say that the chances of any potential medical situations is practically nil.”_

_That seemed to satisfy the reporters. No one followed up on it, nor did they mention_ his  _medical illness. Good, Shiro thought. That, then, hadn’t leaked at least._

_“And…who knows,” Matt quickly interceded to help complete the deflection. “Speaking of the technology, maybe we will be seeing civilization come in full to Jupiter’s moons sooner than we thought. Maybe we’ll even see a Kerberos settlement in our lifetimes.”_

_“That would be one_ very  _tiny settlement, Matt.”_

_Shiro smiled as the reporters chuckled at that quip from Sam, who seemed to finally relax. He went to place his hand on—wait—_

_“There’s still some controversy that you’re not bringing a dog, though, given the destination of your mission.” Another reporter’s voice cut in. “Why are you bringing—”_

_No, wait, why was everything so_ big  _, all of a sudden?_

_“Because we can’t imagine going on this mission without Kuro. He’s an integral part of the team and his position is non-negotiable.”_

_Shiro’s response rang clear from far above him._

_“Don’t you mean,” Matt’s teasing response was just as clear, “Kuro’s position is non-_ nya _-gotiable?”_

Kuro.

_That name again._

_Why that name?_

Why _—_

 

* * *

 

What brought him back this time, as he struggled once more to stretch back through the collar of his clothing, was the smell of burning cloth. His breath was becoming heavy and hard, and it was getting harder to focus on what was happening around him.

“Perfect! Now the binky is climbing up the building. And on fire.” The first thing he could compute was Pidge’s voice, which was flat and emotionless. “Excellent job, guys. I give us five stars on Yell. Would hire again.”

“Hippy!” Keith’s tone was nothing short of horrified. “ _NO!_ This wasn’t what I wanted for you, oh god!”

“Now now, Number Three, it’s not  _really_ your stuffed animal.” Coran was next to Keith, patting his shoulder. “It’s just a metaphysical manifestation based on your thoughts about it!”

“I know that.”

Keith sniffed, then whimpered, then finally cried, as the creature let out a flammable roar that shot up onto the roof. Everyone, Keith included, staggered back towards the doorway.

“But it…I did this to him…daddy…!” Keith buried his face in his hands. “No daddy, don’t leave…don’t  _die_ …!”

Shiro stumbled over and tried to give Keith a reassuring pat as well. When he brought his hand away, a spot sticky green residue was left behind. Startled, Shiro turned his hand over, only to find his palm was covered in a glowing green goo.

_What—!?_

Nearby, not-Allura chortled.

“ ** _PALADINS, DESPAIR,_  **” She raised her hands up, and energy began to seep through the open doors. “ ** _SENDAK, OH KEYMASTER, PREPARE FOR TRIUMPH! OUR KING SHALL BREAK BLOOD WITH HIS ENEMIES!_  **”

“…Ok, Coran?” Hunk hunched behind an obelisk with a long sigh. “This is not going well. Keith is having a breakdown, Pidge is monotoning, which means ‘I am not handling this in the slightest’—”

“Hmm,” Coran tugged at his mustache irritably. “Yes, I can see that.”

“…And I’m terrified. Like, one hundred percent. Rational thought is not…you know.” Hunk curled up into a ball. “I’m have no idea what to do.”

“Well, Number One!” Coran cleared his throat. “If it makes you feel any better, I…have absolutely no idea what to do either. Well, almost no idea.”

“Almost?”

“Yes, but  _my_ brilliant idea involves making a castle-load of juniberry margaritas,” Coran shrugged. “Whether or not we win here, I’ll gladly make everyone a glass!”

“…So basically, we don’t know how to beat this,” Hunk slowly reiterated, “we have no backup plan, our group is completely ineffective, and the hippo apocalypse is nigh?”

“Bongo!” Coran snapped. “Right on the nose, Number One!”

“That’s…bingo,” Shiro muttered as he clenched his fists. “Bingo.”

He stared at the door, catching Lance looking over at not-Allura as she drank in triumph. There was a worry in his eyes, a sadness in his frown. Allura must have been special to Lance, somehow, even though he couldn’t ever recall Allura ever speaking about him or anyone in Voltron. Indeed, most of his conversations with Allura were mundane, and their time together aside from the most recent had been pleasant.

“Allura…” Lance murmured. “What would  _you_ do…”

He looked over at Shiro, then back at the door with a sigh.

“If only we could close this stupid thing…”

“Well, why  _can’t_ you close it?”

“I don’t know,” Lance’s shoulders sagged as he looked back over to Shiro a second time. “Why…can’t we…”

Shiro blinked at him, then at the door, then back at Lance. Lance gave him a look, first of quiet resignation, then contemplation, then of eureka.

“Ah—wait!” Lance immediately stomped over and grabbed Shiro. “ _Wait!_ Not-Shiro, you’re right!”

“Huh?”

“That’s gotta be it!” Joy seeped into Lance’s voice. “You’ve earned your pay. No busting tonight for you, buddy!”

“But I thought you only busted  _ghosts_!” Shiro protested irritably. “Seriously, why do you all keep threatening me!?”

Lance, instead of responding with any kind of explanation, simply shoved Shiro back towards the rest of the team, who were all staring at the bursts of flames that had just emerged over the top of the roof once more. The building rattled as the Robeast let out an angry roar that hurt Shiro’s ears; he was slowly climbing, and getting closer to the roof, and thus to them.

Keith was still sobbing, head in his hands.

“Guys,  _guys_!” Lance was practically vibrating as he knelt down to Keith’s level. “I just got the best idea! You’re gonna love me for this!”

“We are?”

“Hunk! Bro. Dude. Super best buddy.” Lance flashed a winning (though also slightly deranged) grin. “I just figured it out. Zarkon had to open that door to come here, right? Right? To get his presence back on Earth, yes?”

“Uh huh.”

“ _Dude._ ” Lance’s eyes sparkled. “So then what if…we  _closed_ the door?”

Silence. Keith still sobbed.

“…That’s it, I quit.” Pidge cupped their hands to their mouth. “Hey, Binky of Death and Despair, please come over here and end my mise—”

“No no no no  _no_!” Lance immediately covered Pidge’s mouth. “Simmer down there, Pidgeon, I mean it! Zarkon’s able to manifest on Earth because of the energy being fed to him from the ley lines, but he’s still connected to the quintessence in the rift, right? It’s what’s keeping these guys here on Earth, so if we close the door, we cut their power off and we force them back into the rift!”

Shiro blinked at the explanation. It sounded utterly insane, and at the same time made perfect sense. Or maybe he was just so frazzled by the past several hours that any word vomit would sound like Shakespeare at that point.

“We gotta close the door to stop Zarkon!” Lance repeated. “Yeah, it’s a spoopy door, and wants to kill us and everything and everyone we love, but it’s still a  _door_! You know, with hinges and a frame, a stairway, and bad decorations…”

“Hmm.” Coran’s eyes narrowed. “Doors  _are_ designed to swing both ways, in general. A metaphysically-rooted door should work on the same principle.”

“See?”

“Ok, Lance, but how do  _we_ close the door?” Hunk pointed to the object in question. “There’s no way we have the strength to push it closed. I could barely do it and I’m…”

Hunk trailed off as realization dawned.

“ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “Oh. That’s the catch, man.”

“What’s the catch?”

Hunk and Lance both looked at Shiro at his question.

“We need to reverse the particle flow of the rift energy coming from the door,” Hunk slowly spoke after a pause. “And the only way to do that, we have to cross the streams and access the power of Voltron.”

“Mmph!?” Pidge shook their head under Lance’s hands, finally slapping it away. “How?! We’ve only got four Lions! It’ll never work!”

“Yeah, but that’s the beauty of it!” Lance snapped. “Even if we don’t survive, the blowback of our attempt might accidentally blow up the planet and Zarkon with it! Win-win!”

“Ok, I’m going to have to register a  _slight_ objection to that, Lance…”

“I’m afraid Number Four is right. If we do this, we’re going to need all five Lions for this.” Coran cracked his knuckles. “If that is the case, I am more than willing to risk my life to temporarily bond with the Black Lion, if it will allow it.”

“…I’ll do it too.”

Keith’s voice was muffled, and his face was red and puffy as he lifted it up. He wiped his eyes, looking at Shiro, then at the others.

“Guys. Pidge, Hunk.” His voice cracked as he picked up his particle wand. “We may or may not live if we do this, but if we at least  _don’t_ try this, Earth  _will_ be destroyed. And…Hippy deserves better.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Pidge sighed. “Ok. Let’s do this, then.”

“One life to live, everyone!” Lance was already charging his Lion. “If we survive, I’m totally going to finally buy the newest Bex Box and you can’t stop me!”

“And if we survive,” Pidge turned their accelerator on next, “I get to slap Lance for using the word ‘spoopy’ in a serious conversation.”

“Hopefully we’ll  _survive_ first,” Hunk gulped. “Coran?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Number One.” Coran turned the Black Lion on, and Shiro felt his stomach churn. “Number Three?”

“…Got it.” Keith sniffed as he, at last, turned his accelerator on. “Guys, let’s concentrate. Remember, we’ve only got one shot.”

Another roar came from right behind them. Hippy the Hippo’s giant, angry, flaming cotton foot loomed over the group.

“Let’s go!”

Everyone ran back towards the door, with Coran leaping to avoid the fiery foot. Shiro followed as well, unable to stop the horrid feeling in his stomach from intensifying as the five proton pack wielders hastily gathered into formation.

“One shot, let’s do this!”

“It’s been nice, Lance…”

“Same here, gremlin…”

“It was an honor to fight with all of you.”

Keith took a deep breath and turned on his wand, letting out a red stream of energy that sparked with gold. Everyone else quickly followed suit with their own brightly colored effluxes, with Coran going last; the Black Lion’s output was a vivid purple that sparked white as it shot towards the open doorway.

Shiro felt ready to fall apart completely this time as the power of all five streams emanated through the rooftop and into the shrine, and it threatened to draw him in and rip him asunder.

“Now…” Keith’s voice rang through the air, cutting to Shiro like a knife. “Form Voltron!”

The streams began to congregate together, with red and yellow first mingling, followed by blue, and lastly green. The energy began to surge violently forward, towards the door; the doorway began to spark with electricity as, behind everyone, Hippy’s angry roar licked flames and lasers at their backs.

Then there was Coran.

“Coran!” Keith’s shout became desperate as the streams began to erratically shoot out streaks over the roof. “Cross,  _now_ , h-hurry…!”

“I-I…” Coran was covered in sweat, and his hands were violently shaking. His face was turning pale, then ashen. “Number…Three…trying… _ah_!”

_“You see, the Lions are very…selective of who they bond with.”_

The Black Lion’s stream began to sputter out, blinking on and off with erratic buzzing in the air, before finally dissipating, the proton wand clicking off automatically.

_“They will only work with an individual that can not only bond sufficiently with them; they must also withstand the drain that the bond presents.”_

Coran was about the collapse, Shiro realized to his horror. He wasn’t able to handle the Black Lion. Voltron wasn’t going to make it. They needed help.

**_Help them._ **

He didn’t need his abrupt and inexplicable inner voice to tell him what to do. The feeling in his stomach plunged, and his instincts told him that if he did this, he would likely be in worse off shape than Coran was. No amount of stretching would likely save him. From whatever was going to happen.

Before he knew it, Shiro was yanking the Lion’s particle wand from the falling Coran’s grasp. He let out as gasp as he felt himself sag from the energy; already, the Lion demanded more than he could truly give, and he hadn’t even turned it back on yet.

“Wh—hey! What are you—!?”

“Not-Shiro, drop that wand right now!!”

“DON’T! You’re going to go through total protonic reversal—"

He ignored them all. He was Shiro. He was Takashi Shirogane. He was the pilot of the Kerberos mission and hero of the Galaxy Garrison. He was going to do this, and he was going to prove to everyone he was who he was.

He clicked the particle wand on, and felt his insides rupture.

**_~…You are not mine.~_ **

He could feel cold green liquid begin to ooze from his mouth as the purple stream burst forth. This voice was new, and wasn’t his. It was neither male nor female, and deep as a rumble.

 ** _~You are one of_** **them** ** _.~_  **The voice betrayed no emotion.  ** _~But you’re also one of_** **his** ** _.~_**

 ** _Please,_  **his inner voice also spoke, pleading. He was speaking, yet he wasn’t.  ** _Let me help. Let him in._**

 ** _~_  ** **You**   ** _are the one who is mine.~_  **There was a pause.  ** _~You will help him.~_**

**_Yes. Let me in. I’m here._ **

Glowing green spiderwebs began to form on his hands as he gripped wand as hard as he could.

**_He can do this._ **

He turned the wand output to maximum, and thrust the massive proton stream that came out towards the other four streams as they mingled. He thought he could feel someone – something –  grasping the wand alongside him, a presence that put pressure on his hands for just a moment, as he felt his strength bump up just enough to finish the job. He could feel his unseen companion smile gently at him, like he had a thousand times before.

As the stream colors turned into a blinding white streak of light, Shiro let out a scream.

“ ** _THIS IS FOR MY CHICKEEEEN—!_  **”

And for the world, of course. And Allura. But in the end, he had just wanted to eat his chicken in peace. And now, he wouldn’t be able to.

**_Kuro…_ **

That name, one more time.

Green liquid exploded out of his mouth, as the force and power of Voltron formed, ever so briefly, into a massive specter formed of the five users’ thoughts and bond. Taking out a sword made out a protonic rainbow of vitality, it only took one swipe. A single, booming  ** _FWOOSH_  **slammed the inner doors above shut.

The scream that emanated behind them caused his ears to explode, as he felt Zarkon, his Robeast, and his energy being sucked towards the closed door, only to dissipate into the air. As he weakly fell to his knees, green liquid pooling around him, his head turned in time to see the angry, twisting, unnaturally snarling face of Hippy the Hippo letting out a roar, before it disintegrated in rainbow wisps of plasma.

“ ** _NO! MY KING, NOOOO!!_  **”

Not-Allura and her massive furred compatriot let out screams as they, too, began to be sucked into the energy storm that was being formed by Voltron’s actions. Their forms twisted and glowed horribly, and Shiro tried to get up to at least help Allura.

His melting knees caused him to fall to his face with a splat, and he could feel his entire form begin to melt.

_Oh…oh…_

“ALLURA—”

Lance grabbed the screeching not-Allura, while Hunk grabbed the other unfortunate victim, whoever he was, and pulled. The faces ripped and tore into two, and the screams immediately stopped as, after a moment, two silhouettes were ripped out of the monstrous visages with a slimy, wet, ripping sound.

“RUN—EVERYONE  _RUN_ —”

Shiro couldn’t; he could feel himself pool, and he saw nothing but green and more green and he unraveled in his clothing. The Black Lion’s wand became covered in glowing green as his hand became a mound of nothing, and all color drained from his body.

 _oooOO_ Ooo _oooOOooh…_

**_Kuro!_ **

The pile of ectoplasm didn’t even acknowledge the name as it lost all sense of self and everything went dark, just as Zarkon’s doorway collapsed in full, and a massive explosion overtook it along with the entire rooftop and everything on it. 


	3. Busting makes me feel good

_“Kuro!_ There  _you are.”_

_Shiro smiled as he finally scooped him into his arms. With a smile, he rubbed his companion’s head._

_“Sorry about leaving you for so long,” He couldn’t help but smile sadly at the distressed sounds given to him in response from the small thing. Still so tiny, even after all the time they’d spent together. It was adorable. “That FDU consortium took way longer that I anticipated.”_

—screamsshoutsofdonnothurthim—

_“You’re definitely riled up, huh?” Shiro took out the leash and attached it, as he always did. “So, you want to go out? Do our nightly walk? I know it’s a little later than usual…”_

—hurtandpainandbloodanddyingheisdying—

_“Ok, ok, I take that as a yes. Come on. Let’s go take our walk.”_

—shirohasbloodcomingoutofhismouthhiseyesarewideandleakingblood—

—staringatnothingbuthimhimhim—

_It was the last walk the two of them would ever take together._

—shiropleaseSHIRO—

_“This way, Kuro. Let’s go.”_

 

****

 

The first sensation Shiro felt upon at last coming to from the darkness of oblivion was warmth. It didn’t feel soft like his bed covers back home, and there was the distinct scent of creosote. He wasn’t entirely sure how he knew it was creosote – his mind felt disconnected and distant from him, more so than before. He slowly began to rise up from his sleeping place, stretching his back.

“Hey.”

That was Keith’s voice, soft and steady near his ear. Then he felt Keith’s strangely heavy hand start to stroke his head, and a rumble emanated from Shiro’s chest as a result. He shut his eyes, bumping up against Keith’s hand. Oh, but that felt really good.

“Oh, he’s finally awake! Took long enough.”

Then came Lance’s voice. Shiro winced at the loudness of it; yes, Lance was a loud guy from the brief time Shiro knew him, but had he been _that_ loud before? His ear began to twitch as the sound roiled—wait.

His ear shouldn’t have twitched.

“Lance, seriously, keep it down.” Keith’s voice suddenly came upwards, coming from far above. “He just woke up.”

Keith wasn’t taller than Shiro, last he checked.

Unless—

The leash. Shiro staring back at himself. The inexplicable gigantism of everyone around him in the past. Dying. The flashes of memories from the rooftop replayed in his mind. Instantly his eyes opened, and he saw a giant, wrinkled grey wall right in front of his face, enclosed by thick brown columns. No – not a wall and columns. A t-shirt, and dark forearms.

He looked up. And up. And  _further_ up.

Lance’s humongous face blinked back down at him.

“WHAA _AARE_ ** _EEOW_  **!?”

The yowl that Shiro let out in response to Lancezilla was utterly undignified. It was also very much not human, and that terrified him almost as much as the fact that Lance had grown about fifty feet. He instantly threw Keith’s hand off his head in order to face him, only to find Keith was also kaiju-sized. He began to shake, and he curled his head between his legs, hackles up and puffed out.

His…very black, very  _furry_ legs, in between which a furry and puffed-out black tail violently thrashed back and forth.

_No._ His throat clenched and his breath began to come in short gasps.  _No, no, no no no no NO—_

“Oh, is he awake!” Coran’s voice barely registered. “Excellent, now we can—is he all right?”

“He’s having a panic attack. Step—quiznak,  _step away from him_!”

“How do you even  _know_ that, mullet-buster?!” Lance’s voice echoed even further away. “Hey, don’t push me—"

The noise and sizes disappeared as Shiro shut his eyes, letting his body shudder as his mouth opened in a groan. Too much. This wasn’t right, not at all. Time was gone, and so was he, and he could see himself staring back again, the blood redder than red as he gasped for air—

The next thing he knew, he was retching a thick ball of neon green goop. He could feel the strange, cold, and viscose liquid dripping from his mouth as he gagged.

“ _Ew_ ,” was Lance’s proclamation as he heard sound return to his ears. “Sorry, but that was the second-grossest hairball I ever saw.”

“Lance.” A pause from Keith. “…that was  _only_ the second-grossest? No,  _wait_ , I mean to say that was rude!”

“He looks a little better now at least.” Footsteps began to tentatively creak on wood floors back towards Shiro. “You ok there, little buddy? You with us?”

All that came out of Shiro’s mouth was pathetic, shaky squeaks. He felt a massive hand – not Keith’s, it was probably Lance’s – begin to rub his back.

“It’s all right.” Lance’s movements shouldn’t have been particularly comforting, but then he rubbed up towards his head and began to scratch behind his ears and  _wow_ that was a loud sound coming from his throat. “There you go. Yeah…! That’s a good boy.”

That was when Shiro realized he was purring, and his shoulders slumped in horrified embarrassment.

“I’m a cat,” he managed to mewl out, his voice - still his own, thank goodness - sounding just as miserable as he felt. “But I’m not a cat. I’m Shiro.”

The petting stopped.

“You guys…Paladins?” The hand lifted, and Shiro looked up at Lance, his tone desperate and his eyes wide. “This is all temporary, right? This is just some strange side effect of crossing the streams, or me using the Black Lion! That’s it, right?”

Lance’s lower lip thinned in response, and Shiro’s rapidly-beating heart plunged.

“Please.” He didn’t want to beg. “Please, for once, _please_ believe me. It’s me, I’m Takashi Shirogane!  _I’m Shiro_!”

“Hey…”

This time, a hand was grabbing him from beneath his stomach as the voice spoke. Instantly Shiro felt vulnerable, and  _fight fight FIGHT_ seemed to scream through his body as he began to swipe at the offending arms. Unfortunately, Keith’s other hand was on his neck, and with a simple pull at his nape Shiro went limp.

“Calm down.” Keith held him to his chest, his eyes firmly staring down and through Shiro as he spoke. “I know you’re scared, but I promise there’s nothing to be scared of anymore…Kuro.”

_Kuro._

Shiro could feel his eyes dilate at the name, and he looked up at Keith in confusion.

“How do you…?”

“Kuro,” Keith repeated. “I know Kuro because I know you.”

“You knew this Kuro?”

“Yeah.  _You’re_ Kuro.”

Time seemed to stop at Keith’s words.

_Keith listened to the fight while he held—_

_Shiro had taken a selfie on the spaceship with—_

_Later he had smiled down onto—_

_He’d been on a leash when—_

_Shiro was given Hippy the Hippo while—_

_Shiro’s eyes stared at him through the blood—_

Shiro felt himself curl inwards with a whimper.

“But no, that’s—! I’m  _human_ ,” He whispered. “I’m  _Shiro_. Keith, you have to believe me.”

A sigh bubbled up in Keith’s chest, pressing against Shiro’s (Kuro’s?  _Kuro’s?_ ) head.

“You really  _do_ think you’re Shiro now, don’t you?” Each denial instead cut like a knife into the soul. “I guess that makes sense. C’mon.”

Shiro shut his eyes at this. He wouldn’t believe it. He refused to believe he wasn’t who he thought he was.

_Why don’t you believe me, Keith…?_

After a few moments, and a flight of stairs later, he found himself being set down on a couch. To his surprise, he was in a dorm room of some kind, and sitting on the cushion next to him was a tired, but smiling, Allura. In front of her was a plate of chopped and cooked chicken.

She was ok. She was  _alive_.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Shiro was hopping onto Allura’s lap, letting out a loud meow.

“Ah, there you are.” Allura’s hand was gently patting his head, and he let out a mortifying chirp as she brought a tasty chunk of the chicken to his mouth. “Our hero! Thank you for helping Voltron out against Zarkon. You’ve been out for a whole…what’s the human term? A whole week!”

Shiro stared at her, eyes wide, as he chewed.

“You’ll need to eat slowly while you recover, so here you go. That’s right…”

“How did he even manage to regain a corporeal form?” Pidge. They were behind Allura, watching as he chewed through the cube. It was humiliating, even while the food was delicious. “He turned into a pile of ectoplasmic goop after using the Black Lion and then he got caught in the explosion!”

_I…did?_ Shiro froze as he swallowed his food.  _Wait, does that mean I’m—_

“I believe I know why,” Allura replied as she brought another chunk of chicken towards him. “Now, you believe you’re Shiro despite your present form, do you not?”

“Mmmph.” Shiro nabbed the piece of chicken and began to chew. “Rai  _am_ Feero.”

“There’s a reason for it.” Allura’s fingers were thin and delicate, but they knew exactly where to scratch under his chin and  _oh_ , it felt good. “I hope you understand that I don’t say this to upset you, but you’re not Shiro. At the same time, though, you are.”

The chewing stopped.

“Mmmrph?” The chirp that came out instead of his words caused him to shudder. At least she wasn’t flat-out saying Shiro wasn’t himself – at least he was mostly certain she wasn’t – but still. “Wrut?”

“Well, rather, you believe yourself to be Shiro because of a phenomenon my father referred to as a type of psychokinetic energy imprinting, or a PKEI,” Allura leaned back into the couch. “Humans generally know it as a haunting. It’s a basic means of supernatural manifestation, and it usually involves a phantasm whose emotions are so strongly associated with a place or item in life, that their remaining negatively-charged quintessence become tied to it in death. It’s how the original Paladins bonded to their weapons to become the Lions.”

“Yeah, I mean, we figured out pretty quickly he was a ghost.” Pidge huffed as they ruffled the fur on Shiro’s back, causing him to grumble from the annoying gestures. “The real Shiro didn’t keysmash his memoirs, or get high on catnip. He didn’t even like chicken, he was a vegetarian!  _And_ he knew me for several years, yet  _you_ didn’t know basic stuff about me, like the fact I’m a girl.”

Shiro choked on his food – not at Pidge’s words, but at who spoke next.

“You’re a  _girl_!?” Lance’s squeaks were at such an octave that it caused Shiro’s ears to flatten almost immediately. “When did this happen?!”

“When I was  _born_?” Pidge brought a hand to their—  _her_ face. “Seriously, Lance, at least the cat  _has_ an excuse not to know!”

“Who else knew!?”

“I believe it was brought up during orientation. This is why you need to pay more attention at meetings, Lance. Anyways,” Allura chuckled. “As I was saying, Shiro. Your case is a little unusual, since you’re clearly not bound to a place or object like a normal phantasm would be.”

Shiro bristled at the words. Phantasm. Death. He couldn’t be.

“I’m not dead, though, Allura.”

“I’m afraid you are, Shiro.” Allura’s eyes softened. “Ever since you moved into my apartment building, at least. I’m capable of sensing quintessence in various forms, including the paranormal ones. Keith is also capable of it, though his extra sense is not at the same level as mine.”

_Keith, pointing his proton wand at his chest._

She offered another chunk of chicken. Shiro turned his face away, his whiskers twitching.

“…I know you don’t believe us.” The chicken went back on the plate, and with a sigh Allura’s hands settled to her sides. “That’s normal, though. Many don’t realize they’ve become ghosts, especially if they’re not particularly malicious. But I swear I have no reason to lie to you. I wouldn’t, not when it involves something this important.”

_Dead. You’re dead. You’re not Shiro._

Shiro didn’t respond.

“…I also know you’re scared. If you’re not Shiro, then why do you think you’re Shiro? What will happen to you when we answer that question?”

He felt himself stiffen at the question.

“I don’t wish to hurt you, Shiro. Not in a thousand deca-phoebs.” Allura’s tone firmed up. “But if you’re to ever find any kind of rest, we must learn the truth. I must know from you. Do you know where the real Takashi Shirogane is now?”

_I’m right here,_ he wanted to scream.  _I’m_ right here  _and trapped as a cat! Stop messing around with this ghost claptrap – I’m the real Shiro!_

Yet something stopped him. The same strange welling of feeling he felt when he was grabbing the Black Lion. It was much fainter this time than before, but it was the sensation of a large hand gently holding the wand alongside him, a faint smile in his eyes, a quiet, deep humming in his ears as two voices conversed, before that word whispered again.

_Kuro._

It felt too familiar, too alive, and Shiro sagged.

“I don’t—” He choked. “If I’m not really Shiro…I don’t  _know_.”

He felt himself crumble.

“This isn’t just—am I really…just a cat?”

“A dead cat, but yes.” Lance’s voice. The sound of someone smashing their foot onto his. “Ow! It’s true!”

_Dead. Not real._

“…Are you going to bust me?” Shiro curled up, knowing he sounded utterly pathetic and not caring because if what they said was true, then he was dead, and they chased ghosts and he was even less than that. He certainly felt it. “Does it hu—"

“No.” Allura’s voice cut him off. “Do not even think such a thing. We would never harm you, certainly not purposefully. We don’t hurt innocents, whether they’re alive or dead. That’s not the Voltron way.”

Another weight sat on the couch, and a hand grabbed under his stomach to lift him up. Keith.

“In any case,” Keith mumbled as he held Shiro to his chest. “I wouldn’t bust Shiro’s favorite pet, he’d kill me.”

“If he’s alive.”

“He _is_ alive.” Keith’s eyes flashed as he turned to face Pidge. “I know it! You thought he was alive before we found Kuro, too. Why does finding Kuro change anything?”

“Because Kuro is  _very_ clearly dead!” Pidge countered, her tone much more morose than Shiro could recall. “And we all know that before he disappeared, Shiro almost never went anywhere without Kuro, including freaking outer space!…”

Shiro’s eyes widened, dilated again at this.

He never went anywhere without—

_It happened too fast for them to realize it._

_“Give us your money and we wo—hey!”_

_“Don’t hurt him!”_

_He’d lunged at his captors, as had his human. How they’d gotten cornered in this place, he didn’t know. They probably shouldn’t have gone out so late, in a place beyond the river. It was something they would probably come to regret if they survived._

_It wasn’t looking very good, though. One of them had a bat, and before he knew it, they’d swung._

_“Kuro—”_

_He felt unbelievable pain as the instrument connected to his head with a loud crack. His breath was knocked out of him, and he felt himself falling to the floor. Felt warmth both pool around him, and leave him._

_“Stupid little shi—”_

_The pain hit him on his spine. Then on his head again. Then his back. Then he started feeling nothing at all._

“Another panic attack—”

“Guys,  _stay back_ from him! Even if this isn’t Shiro, he’s acting like—"

_He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He was helpless to stop them as they turned their weapons on his human, spilling his blood and viscera on the pavement around them._

_It was an eternity before he finally fell, landing with a final crack. His human was down, his eyes swollen as they stared back at him with their bloodied countenance._

_They were both going to die. He just knew it. He’d failed his human, the human he went to the stars and back with; he could only watch as everything began to darken, and the attackers proceeded to grab his human’s wallet._

_“Takashi Shirogane!?”_

_“You idiot! Of_ all  _the people to corner you pick_ him _!?”_

_“You said he looked loaded, numbnuts!”_

_His human’s breath was slow and shallow, but his eyes still moved, focusing on him. There was still that spark of kindness, of goodness, of him, that he’d always admired in his human. His human was the best human. He wished others could be like his human, because his human always fought to give him everything he could ever want. Even though he was clearly losing, he was still fighting, though he didn’t know, this time, what it was precisely for._

_He wanted to fight back for his human, even as the darkness began to dim his sight. His human’s eyes, however, stayed with him, bright as ever; they even seemed to glow green in the ever-encroaching darkness._

_“Whatever, we can’t leave him here and risk him waking up to ID us!” His human began to slide out of sight, and the attackers’ voices became more muted and hollow. “…where…take the arm, too, just leave the wallet and cards...”_

_“No…gonna die…Hackensa…”_

_Even as he slipped away, he could feel his human’s eyes overwhelm him one final time._

“Uh, is he going to be ok?”

“Hunk! Where were you? You left to get us lunch two hours ago!”

“Oh, you know, I just got questioned by the cops about ‘the incident’ at 550 Central Park West is all…”

“Wait, what!? Were you arrested?!”

“No, but you guys will probably want to go down to the nearest precinct as soon as possible. They, uh, Admiral Sanda is trying to put in another court order against us for property damage. At the apartment building.”

“Holy Swiss cheese and quiznak, we saved the world and _that’s_ what she decides to do!?”

_When he woke up, after what felt like many hours later, there were several lines of dried blood in front of him as he slowly stood. He frowned, and stretched up and out, wiggling all the kinks out of his body, until he felt suitably tall._

_What was he doing here? He’d been on his way to his hotel with…someone. Wasn’t he with someone? If he had been, the memory was vague, and seemed to dissipate as he tried to reach for it._

_It probably hadn’t been important, Shiro thought as he stretched. Why he had been unconscious in an alley was also beyond his grasp, but at least his wallet was still where it had fallen._

_Picking it up and placing it carefully into his pocket, Shiro began to make his way back to where he knew a warm bed awaited him, the ectoplasmic glow within the pupils of his eyes fading to a dull grey as he steadily gained his footing on two limbs._

“Kuro?”

He let out a gasp, then a meow, as he looked up. He wasn’t being held, like he remembered; instead, everyone was looking down at him, albeit from a distance. Even Coran, who was pulling at his mustache, was nearby, looking at him intently.

“…You actually responded to your real name.” Keith took a tentative step forward. “Do you remember who you are?”

“I…” Shiro swallowed thickly. “I don’t know. Not entirely. I feel like I’m Shiro, or  _should_ be. I just…there were eyes. Glowing eyes, he was sliding away, and then I woke up.”

He could feel Allura straighten next to him.

“It’s all right.” He didn’t fight when Allura drew him into her arms. “We know you must have fought very hard for him. You fought to control the Black Lion, after all.”

“…I heard him.” Shiro slumped. “I thought I was just thinking to myself, but I could hear his voice, and someone else’s, when I was holding the proton wand. And then…I could remember being in space, and being at the Garrison, but everything was…wrong. Bigger. Like now.”

“I see.” Allura’s voice softened down to a near-whisper. “Do you remember the color of those glowing eyes? Were they on your human?”

“…Green.” He was tired. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Even as Allura comforted him by rubbing his back, he couldn’t muster the throat rumbles. “Yes…my human…he was my human.”

They’d been right, then. He wasn’t really Shiro after all.

“He was  _my human_ and they hurt him. I couldn’t save him. They took him away!”

“And we’ll find him.”

Allura stood up at this, still firmly holding him to her chest. He, meanwhile, was boneless in her grip, even as he felt her stumble a little bit.

“Oh, not so fast, princess!” Coran’s hands held her right elbow. “You are still recovering from your little excursion with possession, after all!”

“Please don’t remind me,” said princess grumbled. “I’m still finding that witch’s ectoplasm in my hair.”

“Yeah, I can see a chunk of it in your bun.” Lance held her left elbow. “So, what’s up? Did ghost kitty imprint on Shiro or something? It sounds like it. Can that even happen?”

“You’re right…and I think wrong at the same time, Lance.” Shiro (but he was really Kuro, wasn’t he?) could see Lance brighten, only to deflate seconds later, at Allura’s words. “Imprinting  _did_ happen, but…I…there’s no way a Class 6 like Kuro could have impersonated Shiro as well as he had been. It’s been quite some time since he moved into my complex, and his false human form would have been more unstable than it had been. He would have – should have – run out of the energy to maintain the obvious façade at some point. The dissociation from the false identity he’s experiencing should have happened sooner as well.”

“But the apartment was designed to heighten spiritual energy and draw it all towards the temple on the roof,” Hunk interjected. “That would make a difference in his power, right?”

“It would only make a difference if Kuro here was the beneficiary of a majority of that energy, but he wasn’t. It went to Haggar and Sendak – the Gatekeeper and the Keymaster – to help them manifest on this plane and possess their victims, and then to Zarkon and any other malicious phantasm who wanted to cause trouble.”

“...And when Zarkon was banished, that energy either went with him or dispersed back into the city.” Something seemed to change in Pidge’s eyes as she took her glasses off. It could have been realization, but in Shiro’s current state, he could also have taken it as indigestion. Both seemed plausible. “And Kuro was turned into a puddle from being at ground zero and using the Black Lion. Then he exploded. He should have triple-died. But…he  _didn’t_.”

“Precisely. And the energy that allowed Kuro to survive…” A deep breath. “There’s only one reason he could have withstood the Black Lion at all. It’s because Shiro might be it’s Paladin and…if he had that kind of quintessence output, then it was  _Shiro_ who imprinted on  _Kuro_ , not the other way around!”

“Wh—” Keith was instantly in front of Allura, his posture bent defensively. “But that means Shiro’s—”

“—been in a situation,” Coran carefully cut Keith off, his voice gentle to counter the other’s increasing, frantic tension. “Where he  _could_ have died, but he could also have been in a near-death situation. Think about it – when you crossed the streams, and unleashed the power of Voltron, you all unlocked an incredible amount of power while deepening your bonds with the Lions, and all of you almost died. It’s quite similar!”

“Uh…” Keith flushed red. “Not really…”

“It’s the same idea, though – near-death experiences could cause similar surges in a person’s quintessence levels. And it’s a type of quintessence transference and imprinting not unlike being possessed!” Allura lifted Kuro up, awe in her eyes. “It’s not as common as a PKEI, but a living creature  _can_ transfer consciousness and other energies into another person in certain situations and bond much as the Lions and Paladins can. Granted, I’ve never heard of the living transferring to something dead, but if the real Shiro is alive…”

“We can use ghost kitty to find Shiro!?”

Now everyone’s eyes were back on him, and Shiro – Kuro, whatever and whoever he was, began to shake.

“Mrow?”

He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what that entailed.

 

* * *

 

“Is this the place?”

Keith and Allura, both in civilian clothing, looked up at the multi-storied brick building as they approached it. The words  **HACKENSACK UNIVERSITY**  was emblazoned on the glass bordering the entrance.

“It is.” Allura pressed a button on her watch. “This is where Pidge found the trauma center’s John Doe case. It also parallels what Kuro told us – he heard them starting to say Hackensack, for whatever reason. Shiro has to be in this area somewhere.”

Hidden inside the backpack slung on Keith’s bag, Kuro silently curled up, letting himself stare at the darkness. He’d have responded in the affirmative to Allura, but ever since they stepped off the last train several blocks back, he’d started to experience a funny feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t from eating – he didn’t need to eat anymore, he thought sourly, so why did he bother – and it was only intensifying as they approached their destination. He wished he could explain precisely what the feeling was, but a satisfying answer seemed to elude him.

“Let me do the talking.” He could hear Allura speak through the fabric as he began to bounce around in time with Keith’s walking. He could also just hear the bored receptionist’s huffy responses. “Hello. Hello? Hi. Can you tell us where we can find the critical care? The John Doe. Oh! We’re actually from the high school, and we’re doing a report on…oh, of course, that’s easy. Thank you!”

More walking, and the sensation began to cling to what constituted as Kuro’s muscles. It was when he heard an elevator ding around him that he finally realized what it was he was feeling: a pull.

It was Shiro, and he was nearby. He let out a worried meow.

“Hm?” Keith’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Kuro, you gotta be careful. If the wrong person hears—”

“He’s here.” Kuro sounded – felt – small as he spoke, the pull foreign enough for him to have it be uncomfortable. “Shiro’s here.”

“Huh?” Keith let out a gasp. “You’re sure? You’re  _sure_.”

“Yeah.” The longer he felt the pool, the more dazed he felt and sounded; he barely heard the ding of the elevator. “Yeah. I am.”

“Here, this way.”

A fast, yanking sensation, and the quick closing of a door. The pull lessened slightly, but only slightly; Kuro became aware enough to realize they were inside a closet, judging by the rustling of paper gowns.

“Kuro?” The backpack opened, and Kuro blinked sheepishly to see Allura looking down at him. “Are you all right?...Oh, your eyes are almost entirely contracted.”

“I feel…” Kuro blinked again, only to yawn as the pull kept tugging on his insides. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” At this, Allura softly smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there. Just hang on a little bit longer, all right?”

“Mmmrph.” Kuro felt more tired by the moment. “I’ll try.”

With that, the backpack closed, and Kuro was back in darkness with the pull and the dread of realizing it was only going to get stronger with each passing moment.

“Oh, yes.” He barely registered Allura speaking to someone else. “High school! Here for a research….oh, ok…five minutes? All right…new…identi…”

The pull threatened to overtake him, to rip out his center and toss it aside, to leave him as a shell of himself. Suddenly, Kuro was very scared. He didn’t like being Kuro. He had liked being Shiro. He’d liked living as a human, and on his own, and having his food and his computer and his plant and—

Then he heard a door close, felt hands enclose around him, and finally he was lifted into a bright light.

“It’s  _him_.” The room spun around Kuro – as did Kuro - while the pull became utterly unbearable. “Kuro,  _look_.”

Then he saw the hospital bed, and Kuro’s insides practically imploded. Laying there beneath a layer of blankets, tubes up his nose and down his throat, was a man. The hair looked more like Keith’s in terms of length, and a white forelock adorned the front of it. He was also thinner, and paler, with nothing where once there had been a right arm.

There was, however, no mistaking it. From Kuro’s throat came an utterly pathetic, high-pitched meow.

Shiro was alive. Shiro was alive, and now—

“Do you see it, Keith?”

“Yeah.” Keith gently placed Kuro down on the bed; when Kuro tried to turn and move, he was held fast. “Just barely. It’s like a little squiggly line. But his hair, why is it...?”

“The hair is from sustaining the quintessence bond for such a long time. His vital signs are otherwise stable right now, despite his overt lack of brain activity. Just like the doctors said.” Allura pulled a seat to the bed and sat down, back regally straight as she took a breath. “Right, now. Bring Kuro over here.”

Kuro’s claws embedded themselves into the bed, and as Keith pulled, the blankets began to tear.

“No.”

“Kuro—”

“No!” Kuro began to flail, letting out a terrified growl. “ _No_ , I don’t want to, I don’t feel good, I—!”

He flailed, swiped, and even went so far as to try and bite Keith. Keith, however, was much stronger than he was at that point, and he seemed to shrug off the attacks with practiced ease.

“C’mon, Kuro.” He was put within arms reach of Allura. “Please. Shiro needs—”

“ _I’m Shiro_!” Kuro began to wail, the pull towards the inert human becoming utterly insufferable as his mind struggled to reconcile what was what and who was who. “I—please, don’t hurt me—"

He wasn’t Shiro. But he was. Yet he wasn’t.  _But he was—_

“Quick, Keith! The bond—he’s starting to re-associate into Shiro again—!”

A brown hand covered in blue light began to descend on him. Kuro let out an angry snarl and swiped with claws unsheathed. The hand swiftly dodged, and then, with one final thrust, clenched around the cat’s forehead.

**_Be still._ **

He felt his eyes widen, then roll up to the back of his head, as everything became awash in a greenish veneer. Across from him, another hand pressed against a human forehead. He couldn’t fight, much less move. He was trapped.

_No…_

**_Shh…_  **Allura’s voice echoed in his mind.  ** _Let it go. Be free of your burden at last._**

Then, everything went white, and the ghost suddenly felt drained. Concepts and ideas that he’d grasped not ten seconds ago suddenly slipped from his mind. To speak human language, to practice abstract science and quantum physics, the feel of flying a shuttle and the taste of macaroni and cheese. How to pay rent, where to get groceries, what taxes and remote controls and the difference in laundry detergents. The sensation of humanity and being alive and all that it meant.

**_Be free of your burden at last._ **

_I…_

He could feel himself regress to an animal in his mind, matching with his body, with everything being sucked back into the human form lying prone in the bed. He tried to fight it. He tried to hold onto something – anything. All he felt was little akin to a string, one he pulled and pulled, seemingly to no avail.

He wanted to cry. But cats didn’t cry, not for that. Certainly not someone like him, he was now so small and so empty as he collapsed onto his side, letting out sad mewls even as he felt his understanding of why he was sad become hazy, confounding, and distant. It was an impression of another life, and another person entirely. It was like watching from the audience, invested in the happenings, but not quite a part of them.

_Kuro?_

Then he felt the pull again. The familiar voice from his memories, the voice that had first spoken his name, rose up in his mind, sounding first confused, then alarmed, then at last terrified. The vital monitors began beeping wildly in response, and the man’s chest began to rise up and down erratically.

_Kuro. No. The gate the gATE THE LIGHTNIng expLODI_ ** _NG NO_  **  _—_

“ **NO!** ”

The man in the bed suddenly burst to life, eyes widening as practically leaped up into a sitting position, taking a deep, croaking gasp. Unfortunately, Allura was still bent over him, and the two banged their heads together with a glorious  _BONK_ ing sound.

Kuro wanted to ask if the man was ok, if the woman was ok, if anyone was ok. All that came out was a confused meow. Of course. He didn’t talk human.

“Hey.” Familiar hands lifted him up, and violet eyes looked down at him. Keith. A friend of his human. He always knew where to pet him. “You ok, Kuro?”

Kuro meowed in response, tilting his head. In this state, he wasn’t entirely sure where he was or why he was there, but in any case it had to be important. Especially if his human was there. Especially if  _he_ was there after being so badly hurt that he stopped breathing.

“Allura, are you all right?”

“Peachy,” the woman gritted through her teeth. Wasn’t she a nice lady? Something in Kuro told him yes. “Shiro.  _Shiro_ , are you ok?”

“Ugh…” Kuro watched as his human moaned in pain, and flopped back weakly onto his pillows, eyes wide. He was alive. He would be ok. “Where…what the…ooh…these tubes, ow…m’arm.”

_I...dreamed I was a cat, and the cat was me._

Kuro’s head popped up at this. He’d heard that.

_It felt so real, but was any of it?...wait, where’s Kuro?_

Kuro let out a meow in response. He was right there, naturally. When had he ever left his human’s side?

“Kuro?” This time the voice came out ragged, and through his human’s mouth. “That you?”

Instantly, Kuro wriggled out of Keith’s grasp and patted over to his human, chirping the entire way as he finally nestled into a warm chest. Letting out a rumble, the cat quietly closed his eyes. It was just like when he cuddled into Neppy, only this wasn’t the apartment, it was another, more sterile place that didn’t smell—

_Wait. What apartment?_

Kuro blinked and looked up. His human was talking in his brain again.

“…Keith?” Shiro’s voice squeaked. “Why am I hearing a man’s voice responding to my thoughts?”

At this, Kuro felt everyone’s eyes on him. He let out an innocent meow; he didn’t do anything wrong. Why exactly his human was internally screaming at him, he’d never know.

 

* * *

 

 

**_One Month Later_ **

“Here?”

“Nope.” Lance flicked his thumb. “Over to the left there.”

“Here, then?” Hunk was standing on a stepladder, holding a nail. “This works?”

“Right there, perfect!” Lance brought his hand up to make a rectangle shape in front of his face. “Our group logo is going to look so cool right over the receptionist’s desk.”

“We don’t have a receptionist, Lance,” Pidge sighed, wiping her glasses. “We can’t afford one with the renovations right now.”

“That’s what Matreon is for, Pidgeon!” Lance booped the other’s nose. “Gotta dare to dream— _ah!_ You flicked me!”

Kuro’s ears twitched at the argument. Well, it wasn’t  _really_ an argument, but it was still annoying for him. Letting out a complaining meow, he floated over to his human’s shoulder, repeating his noisy compaints for good measure.

“I hear them, Kur— _wah_!” Shiro chuckled as Kuro bumped his face into his ear. “Man, you really like floating, don’t you? You haven’t stopped since you learned how to do that…”

Kuro responded by nuzzling his neck. His breath was ice cold on the warm skin.

“Mreow. Mrrr.”

_Where’s Allura?_

“She’s coming, buddy,” Shiro brought his flesh hand up to rub his cat’s head, resulting in a very contented rumble emanating from Kuro’s throat. “I promise you won’t starve.”

“Hey, Shiro?” Lance leaned on the couch at this. “Does Kuro ever talk into your brain about anything but food and sleep and that  _freaking_ plant he made us get back from his apartment?”

“Of course he does,” Shiro smiled as he continued his petting. “I just don’t always say it out loud. Isn’t that right, Kuro?”

_Neppy’s a good plant._

Once everyone figured out that Shiro somehow still shared a psychic bond with his dead cat, the first thing that happened was for Coran to ask Shiro for a sample of his brain tissue for further research. (That was unanimously shot down by the Paladins.) The second thing was an offer to stay at the firehouse that had become the Paladins’ headquarters and home away from home. Shiro wasn’t fooled – he knew it was just as much to monitor him and Kuro as it was to initiate him as the Black Paladin – but at that point, he was not in much of a position to refuse even if he wanted to.

“Ah, New Number One!” Hunk’s head popped up, but quickly turned back away when Coran sat next to Shiro. “I see you and your cat are doing well today. I received a phone call from some Paury Movich character who wants to interview you for your experiences with paranormal activity! He’s offering you $50,000 for a sit-down.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Oh, what do  _you_ think?” Coran’s eyes sparkled as he pulled on his mustache. “I told him to take a long pier off a short walk!”

“Thanks, Coran,” Shiro could hear the other Paladins snicker as he sighed. “It’s much appreciated.”

“Of course, dear boy,” Coran winked. “Besides, your recovery aside, our little settlement with the city and the EPA ensures we’re solvent for some time to come.”

“Aw, but you know, Shiro!” Lance leaned his head onto his hand, squishing his cheek. “We could have used that extra money to do stuff! You know, like how Hunk wants to reinforce the containment unit, the roof needs sealing, Pidge and her research into the Lions’ full protonic abilities—”

_No receptionist, Lance._

Shiro smiled. Though his cat had regressed back into a cat for the most part, time showed that Shiro’s consciousness still had a place in him, and he did eventually remember what happened when he thought he was a human. Sometimes he could voice human ideas and concepts, even could remember everyone’s names again – and their favorite foods – after a few weeks.

It did take a bit to get used to having the cat in his head, though, and most of the thoughts he received were...well, cat thoughts. Kuro could also get very talkative at night, especially if he wanted to go outside and look at the stars, or have Shiro play with him when he was bored.

“Lance,” Shiro smiled. “We’re not hiring the mayor’s secretary as our receptionist.”

“Oooh, come oooon!” Lance let out a whine. “She can type 110 words per minuuuute!”

“She is not going to leave Ryner’s office for you, Lance,” Pidge huffed. “Besides, she’s engaged.”

“How do you know that, short stuff!?”

“She did have an engagement ring on, Lance,” Hunk helpfully added. “Sorry, Lance.”

Lance whimpered, and both Shiro and Kuro could swear they could hear the Blue Paladin’s heart melt into a puddle.

“Besides!” Coran gave Kuro’s head a pat. “We are more than capable of answering our own phone. It’s not quite ringing off the hook yet!”

_Understatement._

Lance sighed, before rummaging through his pockets.

“I’m bored.” After a pause, he took something out of his pocket that made both Shiro and Kuro freeze. “Oh, hey, look what I found.”

He had a laser pointer in his hands, and a slowly growing evil smile on his face.

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice squeaked at the sight. “Don’t—”

Click.

There had been a downside to having a bond with his ghostly cat – the connection was a two-way street. Shiro had started gaining some feline traits without even realizing it at first. He had been a relatively strict vegetarian his entire life, and more so after his diagnosis, before his coma. Thus his horror when, during his first real meal after getting out of the hospital, he didn’t realize he’d been scarfing down beef tartare with his cat until halfway through the meal. Worse, he still felt the temptation for meats that were raw and delicious. He also drank more milk than before, and his eyesight was sharper, as were his reflexes.

Then there was the laser pointer. Lance had taken it out for Kuro one day, only to find Shiro sailing high across the conference table towards the red dot on the wall. He chased the dratted thing for five minutes, before coming to and realizing that he was on all threes,  papers were scattered all over the room, everyone was laughing at him, and Lance had recorded the entire debacle. Worse, he uploaded it online – it was close to ten million hits last he checked, much to his embarrassment.

Now, once more, Shiro could feel his heart thumping in his ears, and his eyes dilating. Next to him, Kuro stilled.

_Let’s go._

Shiro leaped.

 

* * *

 

By the time Kuro and Shiro came to, they were splayed on the floor, the couch was flipped over and Allura and Keith were staring at them both, while Lance was rolling on the ground laughing hysterically.

_FOOD._

Kuro was first to react, zipping over to Allura and hanging around her head with desperate meows. He then flipped downwards to her arms, and started phasing through the grocery bags she held.

“Oh my goodness.” Allura quickly made her way to the stairs. “I think I’ll just go to the kitchen and— _Kuro_ , gracious, be  _patient_ , you know you can’t die of starvation, you silly boy!”

Shiro, meanwhile, found a hand offered to him. With a grateful smile, Shiro took it and allowed Keith to hoist him up.

“Thanks.” Shiro gave Lance a slight look. “Can’t wait for my new arm to be finished. I’ll get to annoy him with my ability to poke him from another room.”

“Looking forward to that, Leader.” Keith smirked. “So you’re definitely staying with us?”

“Well, I can’t exactly go back to the Galaxy Garrison, not presently.” Shiro shrugged. “Between the arm and…well, you know.”

Keith’s face softened at that.

“We’re definitely working on that – on both things.” As Keith spoke, the phone on the main lobby desk began to ring. “What little I’ve seen of Altean technology is crazy. If anyone can figure out a solution, they can.”

_CHICKEN._

Kuro’s delight echoed into Shiro’s mind, and suddenly, Shiro was hungry for chicken too. He managed to tamper down on it, as he looked over to where Pidge was picking up the phone.

“Here’s to hoping Mitch can get what’s left of my back pay, at least.”

“Didn’t Kuro spend most of it on that apartment?”

“Ahaha…” Shiro sighed. “Don’t remind me.  _That_ lawsuit is going to suck.”

Considering that 550 Central Park West was practically a smoldering ruin, with every city agency and their mother suing the poor building owners, and the realty group that oversaw building rentals, on behalf of the building tenants for the unsafe conditions, neglect and (in Shiro’s case, weirdly) landlord fraud and forgery they participated in, Shiro wasn’t going to hold his breath. He knew that any refund he was going to see from it would take years to materialize, if any did.

Not that Shiro didn’t sympathize with the landlords – on the contrary, Shiro was only a plaintiff because the city named him as one. Otherwise, though, most of them seemed to have been unwilling thralls of Zarkon’s cult on Earth, and when the building was destroyed, the actual responsible individuals had vanished with their master, and the spell was broken over the remaining victims. One of them even came to the Paladins’ headquarters to recount her story, and it turned out to be the realtor who had rented to Kuro.

“It was like a bad dream,” she had explained during her intake. “Not a nightmare, not exactly, but a dream where you had no control over the outcome, even while your mind was aware of what was happening. Sometimes it would just be hazy, and then I’d have days when I blacked out the second I turned the corner to the building, and the next thing I knew, I’d be on the subway going home. Yet I’d always say the same exact thing to my family whenever they asked how my day was. My family actually started realizing it, but I couldn’t – I just felt more compelled to stay at the building when they pressed me to get help, until I just…never left the apartments at all.”

Unfortunately, as much as Shiro wanted to help them out, and even with the knowledge of the building’s paranormal history made public, apparently ‘the ghost of my dead cat thought he was me, so they can’t be held financially liable on some counts’ was not going to fly, the building’s attorney unhappily admitted.

“At least the building’s gone. One problem down.” Keith’s eyes looked over at Pidge, who was getting animated on the phone. “Now just have to track down the Fire of Purification…what’s left of it…”

_Chicken chicken chicken num num num chicken_

He shook his head of Kuro’s feasting and its psychic effects.

“That’s…Zarkon’s cult, right?” Shiro had read the case dossiers while he’d been bedridden. “The ones that erected the building after the Great War.”

“Yeah. They’re still out there.” Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Still hiding, still planning to bring Zarkon back somehow. Them and the Architect – they’re supposed to be the cult’s head. We find the Architect, we might just finish the group off once and for all.”

“And then?”

“…I dunno,” Keith’s shoulders sagged. “I was suggesting to everyone that we branch out, do more than just making sure Zarkon doesn’t return. We’re Paladins, and Allura’s always saying we have to help everyone. And we did do a couple of jobs before we got arrested…”

“You seriously have to explain how Admiral Sanda got involved in all of this in the first place.”

“Oh god,” Keith grimaced. “Well, first, she retired after you finished with Kerberos—”

“Anything else?” Pidge’s voice suddenly cut through the conversation. “Uh huh, uh huh…we will be there!  _Yes_! Absolutely! You have an excellent day, and, ah, watch out for poop!”

With that, she slammed the phone down with a flourish.

“YES!” She pumped her arms to her side. “Guys, we just got a new job!”

“We did!?” Hunk was quickly at her side. “What is it!?”

“We’ll need to use the Castleship to get there!” Pidge zipped over to where the proton packs were safely closeted, taking out her jumpsuit. “We’ve got an invasion of birds back from the dead in Half Moon Bay, and they’ve been pecking at people’s eyes! The city council will pay us what we ask if we get rid of them!”

“Half Moon Bay?”

“It’s an hour south of San Francisco on the peninsula.” Lance blinked as everyone stared at him. “What? It’s got some great surfing spots.”

“Well, let’s get ready, then.”

Shiro began to slowly take his own jumpsuit out, staring at it. This would be his first time using the Black Lion, at least as himself. He took a deep breath as he went to hang it up, in order to allow his sole arm to unzip it.

_Here._

A meow came from the ceiling, and Shiro looked up to see Kuro wiggling through the floor, leaving a ring of ectoplasm in his wake as he floated down to where the jumpsuit was. He began poking his nose and sniffing at the zipper, before pulling it down to separate the teeth.

_Thank you._ Shiro gently rubbed his head as he went to take the suit off the hangar; Kuro assisted him in getting the suit on, even tying up his empty sleeve into an untidy bow, leaving little teeth marks on the edges.  _I might just get you some turkey tonight, buddy. How does that sound?_

_I like turkey._

**_~I’d like turkey too.~_  **That was the Black Lion, their sense of humor wry given what they were.  ** _~And gravy.~_**

“Oh, hey,” Shiro looked at the closet as he slung the Black Lion over his shoulder; his straps were modified to accommodate him only having one arm to work with at the moment. “You gotta suit up too, Kuro.”

“…Did we seriously give kitty ghost a suit?” Lance’s eyes narrowed, then slowly focused on one person in particular. “Hunk…”

“It’s not a suit!…per se…” Hunk nervously shifted his eyes left and right. “He likes it and he looks cute in it, ok!?”

_No._

With that, Kuro emerged from the closet.

_I look gorgeous._

Shiro felt himself melt at the sight of Kuro’s uniform. It was little more than a white rainbow sweater with a matching beanie that sported a stylized black V, much like that which adorned the front of Shiro’s jumpsuit.

“Miarow.”

“That you do,” Shiro scratched the ghost cat’s chin as Kuro drank in the affection and preened. “That you do.”

He looked over at the rest of his team and smiled. They were all suited up, and they gave him a nod.

“Let’s roll out, team!” At this, he turned to Coran, who also had a jumpsuit on, and Allura, who was sliding down the firepole dressed in hers. “So, where’s this Castleship we keep hearing about?”

“Oh,” Coran pulled on his mustache. Shiro suddenly felt the temptation to swipe at it. “I believe its idle mode is what you humans call Liberty Island. Nestled right into the sea floor, it is!”

“Liberty—” Lance’s mouth dropped. “You mean the Statue of—”

“It’s the visage of dear Queen Melenor,” Coran held a hand to his heart. “Ah, what a wonderful woman she was. And the torch is the castle’s primary proton cannon, believe it or not.”

Everyone stared at him, mouths open.

“Well,” Allura cheerfully crooked her arm into Coran’s, her mice chittering away and giving nervous stares towards Kuro, who licked his lips and stared back. “Those birds won’t bust themselves! Shall we?”

“…Right!” Shiro cleared his throat and turned towards everyone. Kuro landed on his shoulder and meowed; he could feel the strength of his bonds with his Lion and the others surge through him with anticipation. “Let’s get moving! We’ve got a job to do!”

“Right!”

A chorus of hasty agreement followed, and the group proceeded out the door and into the light.

_For the turkey!_

_Kuro…_

**_~Turkey, turkey…~_ **

_Oh, Black, not you too!_

**_~Yes me too. Turkey, turkey!~_ **

_Turkey, turkey!_

Shiro sighed as the chanting continued unabated. Much as he loved his cats to pieces, it was nevertheless going to be a long afternoon.

 

**END**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus after the so-called "birdemic" was fixed, Shiro got a big turkey for his zombie ghost cats. He barely had time to cook it before the ravenous beasts attempted to devour it. How a proton pack with an output nozzle can actually eat anything is beyond him, but apparently it can.
> 
> Special thanks to Shirosboi and [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium) for looking over my silly little fic.


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